Last Requiem: Final Fantasy VII
by MrWezlum18
Summary: This is a re-imagining of Dirge of Cerberus. While it still tells the story of the game, it now also tells the story of the other members of Avalanche. Where was Cloud and Tifa when Vincent was wandering around Edge? What was Yuffie even doing in Nibelheim? These questions, and more will now be revealed. Rated M for blood, gore, and lots of death! This IS a war story after all. ..
1. Meteorfall

The Compilation of Final Fantasy VII is the property of Square Enix. The following work completely non-profit and the events depicted are merely my wishful thinking.

Do want to know the biggest obstacle to writing a good fanfic? Reading your own work. Every time I look back at these chapters, I shake my head and have to back up one or more chapters and almost re-write the whole thing from scratch. I read the first chapter and almost gagged at how cheesy the Cloud and Tifa scene was. This is why this has taken me three years to finish half the story. . .

**Last Requiem: Final Fantasy VII**

Chapter 1: Meteorfall

After weeks of traveling the world, seemingly endless fighting, and heart-breaking tragedies; pain, anger, sorrow, reflection, and hope; it was the end, almost. Sephiroth was defeated. His ambition laid to ruin and the last conduits for his influence erased. It was over.

At least, it should have been over.

Sephiroth had plotted to wound the planet and, as the planet reacted to heal itself, absorb all of the world's spirit energy from the lifestream. To do this, he had called upon the ultimate black magic: Meteor. Meteor, an extraterrestrial planetoid summoned for the sole purpose of total destruction. The last of the planet's protectors' gave her life to summon the only force that could counter it: Holy, the ultimate white magic.

But Sephiroth, empowered by his time in the lifestream, held Holy back from it's sole purpose. Against all odds, Cloud and his friends were able travel to the very core of the planet and defeat Sephiroth and broke his will. They escaped the Northern Crater in Cid's airship, the Highwind, and rode Holy back to Midgar, where Meteor was closing in for impact, to bear witness to the end.

For better or worse.

It was too late. Meteor was too close. Even without Sephiroth's will pushing it, the force of gravity was pulling the titanic rock in. The energies that held Meteor together crackled across its surface, disrupting the atmosphere. Giant red tornados connected the rock to the city, devastating the upper plate. Whole houses were ripped from their places and sent flying through the air. People screamed as they found themselves caught up in the red-tinged air, with only darkness to relieve their terror. The beams supporting the Sister Ray began to collapse, its back end collided with the Shinra building with an explosion that was dwarfed only by the events around it. The top of Shinra tower, already damaged by Diamond WEAPON, tore free completely and joined the debris flying over the city as Meteor made its final approach.

Suddenly Holy swept in, under Meteor, like a sword and cut off the twisters. Meteor was held up, suspended by the swirling mass of white energy, but then Meteor began to push through, its force too much to bear.

The Highwind hovered high above the crucible. In the relative safety of the flight-deck, Cloud and his friends, who had struggled so hard to save this world, could now only watch, and pray.

"Wait a damn minute!" Barret shouted in horror, "What's going to happen to Midgar? I thought Holy was supposed to stop this!"

"Vincent and Yuffie left ahead of us to warn everyone," replied Cait Sith, though he was merely a proxy thought which Reeve could speak to them, "I told them to get everyone to take refuge in the slums, but the way things are now. . ." An edge of panic evident even in the robot's voice.

Holy pulsed, and Meteor was pushed away from Midgar. But the backlash sent a shock-wave through the city, flattening anything not bolted down. Meteor was far from defeated though. Slowly, but surely, it began to sink again.

"It's too late," Nanaki growled, trying his hardest to stay composed, "Meteor is too close to the planet. Holy is having the opposite effect. Forget Midgar! We've got to worry about all of Gaia!"

* * *

"Come on hurry up!", Yuffie called to the fire-squads as they loaded injured into any vehicles that could still move. She glanced up at the gigantic red death ball in the sky, "And try not to drop anyone this time" she added. The fire-chief ran up to her. "Report."

"Evac complete. All injured have been moved into the transports" he told her.

"Okay, let's get outta of here" she yelled to the group, "And be on guard until you're clear of the red zone."

Yuffie could not help but wonder why they were listening to **her** of all people. She knew all too well how she came across to people, and it must have been especially strange for **them** to have a strangely dressed girl, clearly of Wutain descent, run up to them and start barking orders. Maybe Reeve had managed to get some kind of message to them, despite the chaos that gripped the city, or maybe just having someone to give them orders was all they needed, if only to distract themselves from their panic.

Yuffie pulled the PHS out of her bag, "We're all done here, how 'bout you?" She called into it, trying to speak clearly enough to be understood through the interference caused by Meteor.

"Finished." came Vincent's voice through the static, "But Yuffie, I want you to check the Mako cannon." He was referring to the scanner Reeve had given her.

"Why?" Yuffie questioned, as she did as he asked, "We already. . ." Her voice trailed off as she picked up one, albeit weak, life sign at the top of the structure.

"Just as I thought." Said Vincent, his suspicions confirmed.

"Hold on," Yuffie said, finding her voice, "Hold on, this is crazy! There's no way anyone could be up there, no!"

"Yuffie," Vincent cut her off, " Rendezvous with Cloud and the others, it looks like I still have some work to do."

"What? Hey whoa!" Yuffie cried indignantly as the static in her speaker cut out, indicating that Vincent had turned off his radio.

Yuffie threw it to the ground in frustration.

"Dammit Vincent! Get out of there. . ." She said, giving voice to her fear. She remembered the last time she, with the others, had been to that tower, and who had been waiting for them. Her voice rose with each word until she was literally screaming at the distant cannon, "I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS!"

But Yuffie's voice was lost in the roaring wind storm as Vincent Valentine ran up the steps to the top of cannon. He dreaded what he might find there, but he had to keep going, to see. To see for his own eyes. He couldn't leave Midgar until he knew for sure. . .

When the twisters had first descended on Midgar, it seemed that any hope of escape was dashed. They had barely survived because of the shelter of the taller buildings in sector eight. The tornadoes were gone now, but the wind was still very strong, making it hard for Vincent to move forward the higher he got. A heavy silence, broken only by the sound of thunder, had fallen over Midgar as the white and red lights competed above.

Vincent reached the top of the tower. He looked around, but saw nothing but grey ash and dust swirling around him. Vincent squinted through the gloom toward the far end of the platform, where the control panel for the cannon was. Somehow, the computers seemed to still be active, the glow of their screens just barely visible. Vincent began to walk towards the light, but suddenly the ash cloud thinned out enough for him to see with some clarity. The computers were definitely damaged, but still functioning. That man, the man in the white coat, was still there. He sat there, slumped over the console. Vincent could not see the man's face, but there was only one man it could possibly be, and Vincent would never, ever forget his face. How was it even possible, after what he had done to himself, for him to still be alive? Vincent could tell because the man's hands were slowly typing commands into the computer. What was he trying to do? It didn't really matter now. The only things that mattered in the world right now were that man, and Vincent.

After everything that had happened, Vincent would make sure it ended here.

Vincent pulled Death Penalty, the extremely powerful rifle that had been made just for him, from the harness beneath his cloak, loaded a bullet into it's chamber, and leveled it at the man's back. A red dot marked the path of his trajectory, as Vincent glared at him through his scope.

Vincent tightened his grip on his weapon. It had enough power to turn his enemy into a fine red mist. Vincent remembered she who had made this weapon for him, her final gift so that he could deliver her the vengeance they both craved.

For a second, Vincent hesitated. He considered the morality of shooting a man when his back was to him. Even this man, the only person in the world Vincent hated more than himself. He steadied his hands. His aim was true. He pulled the trigger.

But at that very moment a bolt of lightning struck the tower they were on, meteor was breaking through! The computers overloaded and exploded in a ball of fire. Vincent had reacted instinctively with his Barrier Materia. He was protected from the flames, but the force of the explosion nearly threw him from the tower. His claw clutching the railing, Vincent looked up. The computer terminal was ablaze, but he could see a single bullet hole in it's metal frame. Vincent's target had vanished. Had he been incinerated by the explosion? Had he escaped somehow? It was impossible to tell. Vincent stowed the Death Penalty away; were he the more vocal type, he'd have sworn with such color and ferocity that it would have made even Cid gape at him.

Then, with a teeth-grinding shriek, the tower began to fall away from the rest of the cannon. The ground, hundreds of feet below, loomed before Vincent. As resilient as his body was, he could not survive this fall. He had risked everything to come back here and now, not only did it seem that he failed, but now he would join the countless others whom had already been killed this night . . .

"VIIINCENT!"

The last transport flew through the rising pillar of smoke, and there was Yuffie leaning far out of the open side-hatch, holding on to the door with one hand, the other extended towards him.

Vincent made a running leap off the tower as it tore tree completely. For a moment it seemed like he was suspended in midair. He reached for Yuffie with is good hand, she stretched out as far as she could to catch him. But the winds were working against him and blew him off course. He missed her hand by mere centimeters, and began to fall.

* * *

The contest between unstoppable object and immovable force raged on.

Cloud and others stared at the battle, mouths agape.

To their horror Meteor suddenly broke through Holy and, free of its bonds, plummeted towards the now ruined Midgar. A red light obscured all. Cloud and Tifa's hands found each other and held on tight, this was it!

But suddenly there was a glimmer of green.

"What's that!?" gasped Tifa.

Down below on the ground outside of Midgar a pillar of dazzling green light had burst out of the ground. Soon more appeared, coming from every direction, from all over the entire planet, at once and filled the entire sky. All the different streams converged under Meteor.

"What the hell IS that?" Barret asked.

"It's the Lifestream." Cloud stated with wonder, knowing without a doubt that he was right.

* * *

Yufie dived out of the transport, a line trailing behind her, and caught Vincent's claw-hand. She screamed as his barbed metal fingertips cut into her wrist, but she didn't loosen her grip. Yuffie's line went taut, and they stopped abruptly in midair. Below them, green energy swept through the streets.

Blood was running down the forearm of his clawed arm and dripping onto Vincent's face. He looked up at Yuffie. She grimaced, held up her PHS, "GO, GO!" she shouted into it and the transport twenty feet above them started to move. They swung about erratically, causing Vincent's claw to dig deeper into her arm. She hit a button on her belt and a winch began to reel in the rope, raising them slowly back up to the ship. Debris was still flying through the air, pelting them with bits of concrete and powdered glass. Vincent reached up with his good hand, she dropped the PHS and grabbed it, but she still didn't let go of his claw. Vincent looked below them, just into for the PHS to disappear into the torrent of life energy as it filled the city.

The winch in Yuffie's belt, unable to take the strain, shorted out and they stopped moving toward the airship. A huge piece of detritus, part a building, caught Vincent's attention. It was heading right for them! It would surely crush them to paste if one of them didn't do something.

"Yuffie!" He shouted, "Cut the rope!"

"What!?"

"Just do it!"

Yuffie released Vincent's claw, flicked her wrist, and a kunai appeared from her sleeve. With one swipe, the rope was severed and they plummeted toward the ground. As the massive piece of steel and concrete whooshed past them, Vincent closed his eyes and dug deep within himself. He had less control than he would like over what he was trying to do, but he wasn't in a position to worry about it.

A white light, as bright as the Lifestream around them erupted from Vincent's chest. Before Yuffie knew what was happening, they weren't falling. They were flying! Vincent had her under one arm as they soared out of the maelstrom.

Vincent rode the air currents, avoiding flying debris. His vision was clouded, not by wind or dust, but by bloodlust. It took every once of willpower in him not to tear Yuffie to shreds in his hands. He put on a burst of speed and was able to grab the roof of the transport. His claws sank into the metal like it was butter. Vincent pushed with his feet off the roof and swung himself and Yuffie over the side and into the ship at last. . .

* * *

The Lifestream had indeed risen from the very core of the planet itself to fight meteor. It gathered it's might beneath Meteor, and it pushed. It pushed with all it's power. Meteor practically bounced off the green barrier and drifted away from the city, back into the atmosphere. Holy could now unleash it's full power as well.

In what could only have been minutes, but felt like an eternity, a blinding white light that filled the sky across the entire planet. An explosion in the sky above rocked the entire planet to it's core. Meteor was destroyed.

* * *

Cloud sighed a breath of relief, and then it caught in his throat. In the Highwind's windows, he could see Aerith's reflection looking back at him. She smiled at him and then she was gone. Cloud put his hand against the glass where she had been. Had he really seen her?

"Cloud." said a soft voice. Cloud snapped out of his reverie. Tifa was standing there, looking at him, and he could see in her tear-filled eyes that she had seen Aerith too. They all had.

For a long sombre moment, they all bowed their head. The gravity of Aerith's actions not lost on anyone. She, the last Cetra, had saved the world.

Barret was the first to break the silence with a cheer, "It's over! YEEEEEESSSSS! It's FINALLY OVER!" he shouted, pumping his fist.

Everyone, in their own way, followed suit. The world was saved! Nanaki roared triumphantly, Cid was swearing as he tried to get a call though to Shera, while trying to shake Barret's hand, and keep a hold on the ships wheel, all at the same time. Cait Sith was twitching erratically as Reeve slammed his fists against his keyboard in jubilation.

Tifa, abandoning all cares, rushed forward and embraced Cloud, who in turn wrapped his arms around her shoulders. With the unbearable tension of the last several hours gone, they felt suddenly exhausted and each had to support the others.

There were whistles and catcalls from the others and they quickly separated. Tifa had her hands on her cheeks, trying to hide an intense blush, and Cloud trying, and failing, to keep his usual stoic expression on his face.

It was truly, and finally, over.


	2. Trials and Triumphs

**Every time I try to work on this, I start by reading the past chapters and end up making a whole bunch of changes. I suppose this is a work in progress, but that's what really slows me down more than anything else. I'm nearly done editing though, and there will soon be new chapters. (1/28/13)  
**

**Chapter Two: Trials and Triumphs  
**

In the months following Meteorfall, and the end of the Jenova war, Gaia went through many rapid changes. Shinra was effectively gone with it's President, Rufus, either dead or missing. Shinra had pretty much been running the world until this point. As tyrannical as it had been, at least things had been somewhat orderly. With it gone, much of the world fell into anarchy.

Settlements that were already accustomed to being self-sufficient, such as Wutai, North Corel, and Gongaga had few to no problems. They had been abandoned by Shinra long ago anyway. But places that had relied heavily on Midgar to set the social example and for keeping the peace would be facing hard days to come. Kalm, Costa Del Sol, and Junon were among these. The Gold Saucer had especially depended on Shinra's Mako to keep it's operations running, and were now facing the prospect of closing.

As for Midgar itself, things would have fallen into total chaos if Reeve Tuesti had not been there to take charge. Reeve, utilizing a charisma that surprised everyone who thought they knew him, managed to assemble a group of people he trusted, lower-level employees from Shinra, family friends, not to mention AVALANCHE, and organize them into a cohesive team determined to keep order and start building shelters, ensuring rations were distributed fairly, and the like.

His intention had never been to take leadership of the entire process of rebuilding, but suddenly people were eager to join him, if only to keep themselves busy. "Idle hands are wasteful hands" became a common slogan for Reeve's group.

Before he knew it, Reeve soon found his 'organization' growing, and quickly! Suddenly he was arbiter of deputes, organizing rescue teams, creating jobs, and he was even receiving donations! It could have easily gone to his head if he hadn't had his new comrades to keep him grounded. Ultimately, Reeve allowed the events he had set in motion to continue and the World Regenesis Organization was born.

Attempts were made to rebuild Midgar, but the damaged Mako reactors that were leaking radiation had made much of the city unsafe. A vast tent-city was set up to the south-east of the ruins. Soon enough the campground evolved into a small town; ironically enough Reeve found himself doing the same job he had done for Shinra for years: Urban Development. A few scant months after the crisis, Edge had become a city in its own right.

As for Cloud and the rest of his companions, most went their separate ways. Yuffie returned to Wutai with news of the events that had transpired for her father, the Lord Godo. Cid flew back to Rockettown, of which he was pretty much the unofficial Mayor, and began managing it's affairs in earnest. Nanaki, naturally, returned to Cosmo Canyon and took up the ancestral duty of his people: protecting the land there.

Cloud, Tifa, and Barret remained in the flourishing city of Edge. Together they rebuilt Tifa's bar, the Seventh Heaven, and, in doing so, set a positive example to other survivors. Cloud helped as much as possible in the building of the city, transporting goods and supplies between Edge and Kalm and beyond; and inadvertently started his own business the process; the Strife Delivery Service. Going with it, Cloud got his hands on a motorcycle to facilitate this new job.

Vincent, on the other hand, departed without a word very soon after the crisis was over. He first returned to Nibelheim, to the hidden cave beneath the mountain. . .

Except for one encounter between him and Nanaki a few months after that night, nothing was heard from the enigmatic gunman for two years.

Meanwhile, a cloud had settled over the fledgling city of Edge. In the immediate aftermath of Meteorfall, a strange disease known as Geostigma had appeared. It was a horrifying disease, fatal to all and incurable. Cases were reported from all over the planet, from Edge to Junon and from Costa Del Sol to Nibelhiem. Even the isolated nation of Wutai was affected.

Barret, seeking closure with his past, left Marlene, his adopted daughter, in Cloud and Tifa's care so that he could travel to his old home and help to truly rebuild it now that it was free from Shinra's shackles.

Not long after, Cloud found an orphan by the name of Denzel wandering the ruins of Sector Five, near Aerith's church. Denzel's parents had died as an indirect result of AVALANCHE's actions; the same deeds that haunted Barret, haunted them as well. Cloud was convinced that Aerith had guided him to them, so that they could try to atone for some of the blood on their hands.

Soon however, it became apparent that their adopted 'son' was also suffering from geostigma. Cloud did all he could to find a cure, when one did not appear, he began to fall into a state of depression.

During this time, Reeve was working with remnants of Shinra's staff, and the denizens of Cosmo Canyon set out to expand the World Regenesis Organization, or the WRO, into a global force . Sticking to the original premise, they were dedicated to healing the damage done to the planet by Shinra, and protecting against future threats. With Reeve as it's Commissioner, the WRO sought new sources of energy to replace the dwindling supply of mako, of which the manufacture was now outlawed. Building Edge could not have happened with out the WRO, who also saw to the dismantling of the Mako Reactors outside of Midgar and the restoration of the surrounding lands.

At Reeve's invitation, Cid joined the WRO so they could make use of his airship, which was retired when an ancient airship was excavated in the Bone Village to the north. Once it was refurbished, Cid christened the ship, 'The Shera', named for his new wife. It would be a bittersweet honeymoon for the couple though, Shera had developed symptoms of Geostigma, like so many others. . .

Barret, meanwhile, was able to replace his arm-cannon with a much friendlier looking robotic hand thanks to the doctor who had fitted him with the original. After this, Barret set out to help the WRO rediscover oil. An old oil-farm was found near Gongaga, abandoned years earlier once Mako had become widespread. At the same time, Corel's coal mines were reopened. Coal was sold to cities all over the world. Dio, owner of Gold Saucer, cut a deal with Barret for cheaper fuel in return for a percent of the park's earnings. North Corel soon flourished like it never had before. In only a few months, North Corel was as prosperous a mining town as the original Corel had ever been, perhaps even more so. The miners offered to make Barret the Mayor of North Corel, now named 'New' Corel, but he declined. He did, however, commission a small memorial to all of their old friends who had died when Shinra had razed the original town. When the monument was finished, he knelt before it for a few minutes, and then he left to return to his work.

Cloud, however, was sinking closer and closer to despair. Doubt and guilt clawed at his heart, brought about by all the losses he had experienced during his journey. The loss of his best friend, Zack, to Shinra, and the death of his mother and loss of his hometown to Sephiroth; both of which he had forgotten from the trauma of Mako addiction, developed during the four years he was held captive and experimented on. Then there was the death of Aerith, whom he had cared deeply for, also at the hands Sephiroth. Not only had she died though, she had died right within arms reach. She had died when he could've, should've been able to do something. . .

These feeling were compounded by his frustration at himself and his apparent helplessness in the face of Denzel's imminent death. When Cloud also contracted the disease, he completely gave up on himself and cut off contact with everyone, resigned to his fate.

Cloud took up residence where no one could reach him: in Aerith's church. It was one of the few buildings in Sector Five that had, more or less, survived the devastation of Meteorfall; and for many months it was Cloud's home during his self-imposed exile.

Because of the Mako Radiation saturating the area, only Cloud could safely come here. This was Cloud's life for a long time; living in total isolation like a hermit. But that was soon to change. . .

Sephiroth was dead, but far from finished. Using his immense power, he manifested three avatars on Gaia to do his bidding. It was then that Geostigma's true nature was revealed. The sickness was brought on by exposure to Jenova cells, which occurred on a massive scale as an inadvertent result of the lifestream's emergence to fight Meteor. Jenova was the ancient space parasite with which Shinra, through experimentation, had created Sephiroth; and through Sephiroth, SOLDIER.

The Jenova cells spread across hundreds of individuals responded to Jenova's call, and sought to reunite at the Northern Crator and grant Sephiroth all of their power. Cloud and company had ended this scheme. But as long as Jenova exists outside of the Lifestream, Sephiroth can return. What had been the world's salvation would have become it's demise, but becoming wise to his plans, Cloud fought his nemesis once more, with his old allies by his side. All of them, including Aerith. She also had the power to influence the realm of the living. With this, she had created a geyser of water infused with life energy in the middle of her church. Cloud was healed of his illness, and with the support of his friends found it in himself to forgive himself for his past failures. Even so, Sephiroth succeeded in recreating his old body. But, reinvigorated, Cloud met him in the ruins of Midgar for one last rematch.

Cloud fought valiantly, but was nearly defeated. When all hope seemed lost though, Cloud was able to find the strength he needed to deliver the deathblow. Sephiroth was broken again, hopefully for good this time. But his promise to Cloud, to never be a memory, weighed heavy in Cloud's mind. He would always remain vigilant, but now he had the peace he needed to move on with his life.

In the weeks that followed, hundreds of people came to Aerith's church to make use of the healing spring. Most had come to heal their geostigma, but many had also come hoping that they could have other ailments cured. Cloud took it upon himself to guard the church, keeping an eye on the pool of water to make sure no one abused it. It left him little time for anything else, but he did not complain. Every day the children would come to the church to play or pester him for tales of his adventures, for which he only feigned irritation. He accepted no payment of any kind for the spring's use, insisting that it was not his place. When asked about it's nature, he'd only say that it might be the "Gift of the Godess," quoting something he had heard long ago. . .

It seemed that Gaia was on the verge of a Golden Age, a world-wide renaissance. However, not even Bugenhagen could have foreseen what was to come next. . .


	3. Sea of Flames

**Chapter 3: Sea of Flames  
**

* * *

January 21, 0010 - Three years since Meteorfall.

Vincent opened his eyes. Before him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her eyes were closed, her hands clasped in front of her chest as if she were praying. She wore a wispy white dress, her face framed by her long chestnut brown hair. Whether she was alive or dead was as much a mystery to him as it had been when he and Cloud had first found this place, when she had asked him if her son was still alive...

"So..." Vincent murmured "We meet again... Lucrecia..."

"Vincent..." a distant echo of the woman's voice reached his ears, trying desperately to tell him something, "I'm...so...sorry."

"Why?", Vincent asked, as the light in the cave went out.

Just as she had done last time, and the time before that, and just as she had always done; she was asking for his forgiveness. Because he could not comprehend the reason, Vincent could only ask her 'why?'

"I'm the one... who should apologize." said Vincent, as he awoke from his doze.

* * *

It was sundown over Midgar. Cloud stood in the middle of Aerith's church. He had come to retrieve the last of his belongings. The last of the pilgrims had left three days earlier, but Cloud had stayed the extra couple of days to make sure. Now he was finally ready to move back into the Seventh Heaven.

At that moment though, he stood motionless at the edge of the pool, listening. Listening to the most chilling sound imaginable. It always started around this time, for the last couple of weeks since the first night, and even in this church it was just as terrifying. What Cloud heard was the sound of despair, and pain given flight on the winds that traveled through the ruins of Midgar and into the city of Edge. This was the sound that kept the the children awake at night. This sound scared all the dogs silent. It was the sound that had driven the people away from Sector Five. This sound, this unholy chorus, surely came from the depths of hell itself.

It echoed off the fallen debris of the once tall buildings. It was so loud and so clear that at times, Cloud felt that he could pick out individual voices that would cry out in terror only to be silenced, with many more to take it's place. Any moment now, Cloud feared that he would hear the voices of Tifa, Denzel, and Marlene join them.

Tonight was the worst it had been yet. Tonight the sound was so much more. . . potent, as if they had been hearing the wailing through a closed door all this time, a door that had just been opened.

Suddenly, Cloud tensed up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He had a feeling that he was been watched. . .

* * *

Tifa sat on one of her bar stools watching the news. The kids had been put to bed, though undoubtedly still awake. It had started with the disappearance of those thirty-three people in Junon. Just thirty-three people gone without a trace, as if they had just got up and left without a warning. Soon after that, that noise began to trickle out of Midgar. The WRO sent a team to investigate this three weeks ago. . .

She told herself that it was only the wind. She could even not convince herself of this though, let alone others. Neither could she fathom how Cloud was putting up with it, as he was still sleeping in the slums. But business at the bar was booming lately, so she supposed that was a plus.

Even so, between the worry and the insomnia, Tifa was getting more and more jumpy by the day. It was so bad that even the echo of her own footsteps made her nervous. It was as if some unseen malevolent presence were just a step behind wherever she went, waiting to catch her unawares, and slit her throat. . .

It wasn't just this that had her nervous tonight though. Cloud was moving back in, and she would be at the door to greet him. She had no idea what they would do then. Tifa could not have been happier that Cloud was himself again, and she was so proud of him for the work he had done over the past year.

But anytime they were in the same room, just the two of them, both would be at a loss for words. There was an elephant in the room, a bridge that needed to crossed. The only question was if that bridge had been burned. It didn't help that he had been on edge just as much as she was.

All he did these days was prowl about Edge. Every night, before he returned to the slums, he'd drop off a shopping bag full of Potions, Hi-Potions, and Ethers, or another deadbolt lock for the front door (they were up to lucky number seven tonight). He had even dropped off the chest of all their old Materia, leftover from the Jenova war, that had since been locked up in Aerith's church. Surely, with him still at the church, there was little concern of them being taken? When she asked what those were for he had simply grunted and said:

"Just to be safe. . . "

Suddenly a loud roaring noise cut through her thoughts. Hurrying to the door, she peered around the edge of a window. There was a vehicle parked a car-length from the front door. The bright glare of a head-light made it difficult to make out any details. On any other night, she would have opened the door with no hesitation, as she knew the sound of those engines as well as their owner, but any noise on a night like this sounded alien and untrustworthy. She hesitated with her hand on the knob. As she looked on, a shadowy figure slid off the bike and slumped towards the door. Though still in silhouette, as soon as his hair caught the light, there was no doubt as to who it was...

Tifa hastily undid all the locks and wretched open the door and ran out to Cloud just in time for him to semi-collapse into her arms. She called his name, and watched in horror as a small trickle of blood made its way down the side of his face.

Gathering himself, Cloud looked her in the eye. What scared Tifa more than the blood was the absolute panic in his eyes as he hoarsely said,

"Get the kids, we're getting out of here, right now!"

* * *

Kalm was no longer the quiet little village it had been during the Jenova war. After the WRO restored order to the region, many of the refugees from Midgar had come here seeking shelter, and the residents of Kalm had graciously accepted them in. Kalm's population tripled overnight. Multiple families shared single homes. New buildings had to be thrown together just so everyone would have a place to sleep.

To earn their keep, the refugees helped to repair the damage done by the storms caused by Meteor, which had affected places as far away as Kalm. When that was done, they took up shovels and hoes and helped work the farmland surrounding Kalm. Kalm's population had been small enough that every season saw a surplus of crops. That would normally be sold to help maintain the town. That extra food went very quickly, but with the extra hands, the fields grew nearly four times in one season. The grounds around Kalm had been blasted by lifestream energy when it erupted to stop Meteor, resulting in the soil becoming extremely fertile. The fields stretched far to the south, farm holds had to be built. For the first time in generations, the Chocobo Farm had close neighbors!

Goods were brought to Midgar to help with relief efforts, even then, there was still extra. Goods were sold abroad, bringing in a larger income than Kalm had ever seen. Mayor Domino, who had escaped Midgar, helped to handle the finances; thrilled to be able to do 'actual work', as he put it. Kalm was able to hire people from North Corel to make a road around the Zolem Marshes, allowing renewed access to the Mythril Mines. With mythril so easily available, Kalm experienced an economic boom beyond anyone's wildest dreams. The mythril was sold abroad, to Wutai and Rockettown, or traded with Corel. When the reserve Mako energy began to run out, Kalm was able to make the switch to more environmentally friendly fuels, like oil and coal, more easily than anyone could have hoped for.

In a very short amount of time, Kalm had grown into a small city, as big as three of Midgar's sectors. Eventually, some of the of the Midgar refugees left. Either to help in the building of Edge, to rebuild their own homes, or to parts elsewhere. But the rest stayed in Kalm, with new friends and family.

Three full years since Meteor was destroyed, people filled the brightly lit streets. Fireworks illuminated the sky with colorful explosions. A festival was being held to celebrate Kalm being bigger and more prosperous than it had ever been. Posters and banners depicted blown up images of the old town, group pictures of townsfolk and refugees of Midgar, and of Meteor itself. Although Meteorfall itself had been a tragedy, that morning had seen a quiet service for those lost, the aftermath had been a colossal boon for Kalm.

All this happiness did for Vincent was keep him awake. He lay, morosely, on the bed in his hotel room. Cerberus, the triple-barrel handgun he had constructed himself, sat on the bedside table with his cell phone and his wineglass. His phone, which he had purchased to pacify his friends, displayed the vague message he had received from Reeve two days earlier: "Meet me in Kalm, we need to talk."

Although Vincent usually ignored his phone, generally it was on silent, when he read Reeve's text, he knew what Reeve wanted to ask him about and wanted none of it. Yet Vincent had come to Kalm anyway. He was not sure why he had bothered. He told himself that giving an answer in person would prevent further requests. He wouldn't admit to himself however, that after so long on his own, that he was a little starved for human company for a change. So, arriving the night of the festival, he booked a room at the Inn and waited for the appointed hour.

The TV was on in front him. The channel seven news was on, once again reporting the story about the news crew and WRO volunteers, whom had disappeared beneath Midgar three weeks earlier. They had been investigating a newly discovered "Sector Zero" sealed underneath the Shinra Building itself. Vincent had seen this report a dozen times since the incident, but tonight they had finally released the last footage received from the team. It showed the workers jogging down a dim corridor towards a large metal door as the reporter commented on Shinra's various atrocities. The video ended abruptly after that. This, and the disappearances in Junon, gave Vincent an ominous feeling.

Then, Vincent heard it, through the music and the dancing and the fireworks was the faint whistle of a large, heavy object whistling through the air. Just as he snapped his head toward the window, an old tower on the city's wall exploded into a shower of mortar and brick.

Everything in the city froze abruptly, a sobering silence filling the air. Then another explosion of color, but it was not a blue or green shower of sparks, it was not that kind of firework. It was a real, dangerous, damaging, _lethal_ explosion.

A billowing tower of smoke began to rise into the sky as fires began to consume the closest structures. Realization set in, and everyone began to panic.

Through the smoke flew a dozen DragonFly Military Helicopters. They swooped down low over the scrambling townsfolk in the square and men with guns dropped out of side compartments. They landed, took aim, and unleashed a hail of machine gun fire into the crowds. Those who were not killed instantly screamed, the sound of it filling the air. As the people began to run away, the helicopters ascended once again and blasted the buildings around the festival square. Rubble fell into streets and alleys, fencing in the remaining civilians. The soldiers stopped firing and a cargo-carrier dropped huge storage units into the area, crushing whatever happened to be beneath them. The mysterious soldiers rounded up whoever was left and forced them inside, taking some of them out of line, seemingly at random and shooting them where they stood.

All this happened in about thirty seconds.

Meanwhile, Vincent had snatched his gun from the bedside, and he ran to the window to leap into the street. But a chopper dropped down in front of the Inn, cutting him off, and locked onto him.

As his hotel room exploded, Vincent was flying through the air overhead from an unbelievably high jump. He flipped over in midair and took out the helicopter's cockpit, main propeller, and tail rotor with only four shots.

As the chopper spun out of control and exploded, Vincent landed on a nearby rooftop with a grace belying his cumbersome appearance. Looking back toward the square, Vincent jumped down to a balcony to get a better view.

On the street, soldiers sealed the containers and the copters flew off with them.

Vincent couldn't do a thing, and he cursed his weakness.

"Why is this happening?" He asked aloud, as he clenched his fists on the balcony railing, crushing the bars in his grasp.

On the roof top behind him crept three enemy soldiers, machine guns drawn, they silently scanned him with their helmet visors. Information appeared in the corner of their screens.

Name: Vincent Valentine

Approximate Age: 60

Gender: Male

Blood type: A

Wanted: Dead or Alive - capture by any means necessary - Direct Order

A Direct Order. . . Vincent Valentine's fate was sealed.

* * *

_She sat in a small room, hardly bigger than a closet. Computer monitors lined the walls with cables cris-crossing almost every surface. Perched on her head was a helmet not unlike a typical Deepground soldier, though its purpose was entirely different. On three of the monitors was the same image, Vincent Valentine's back, he was gaping at the collateral damage from the harvesting._

_"Vincent Valentine, I've found you."_

_Just then, as she watched, Vincent Valentine whipped around. A heartbeat later and all three monitors displayed nothing but static. _

* * *

Vincent could sense them, smell them almost, and in a heartbeat, he killed them.

He examined the uniforms. They wore full body suits of spandex and rubber, with kevlar only covering the upper torso; the bare minimum, implying that these urchins were very low on the food pyramid within whatever organization they were from. A stripe of neon blue traveled down the uniforms on either side, from collar to shin, glowing with mako. The helmets were of familiar shape, similar to the old Shinra Infantry helmets, but from the eyes down they seemed to become gas masks, speakers jutted out awkwardly from the front of the masks, making them appear thoroughly unhuman. The eye-pieces themselves glowed from within with Mako, even while the wearer was dead. The lower section of the helmets seemed skin tight, and Vincent realized that they may have been grafted to their very flesh. . .

Finding some stairs, he descended to the ground level. Vincent ran along the blood-stained streets, the attack looked more and more like Shinra's "clean-up protocol" as Vincent recognized countless similarities in weapons and tactics. Enraged, Vincent gave no mercy to any enemy that he came across.

Despite the chaos and the anger, Vincent noticed something odd. They weren't just randomly killing, they were methodical about it. While there seemed to be no similar connection between those who were spared or executed; some were spared on purpose, which Vincent confirmed when he saw one soldier stop another from killing a civilian, only to kill one standing right next to them. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary that distinguished one group from the other. What was their goal? Whatever the case, Vincent saved every civilian he came across.

Soon enough, Vincent made it to the central square of Kalm. It had been here that Vincent was to meet Reeve, it would only have been another twenty minutes, if not for the ensuing massacre. Just as he arrived though, one of the helicopters flew over the square again. Vincent shrank into the shadows, but it was a needless gesture. The chopper was flying out of the town in the direction of Edge. Vincent noticed that large clamps on the underside of the chopper were holding one of the storage units. He could've sworn that he heard screams coming from inside.

Vincent had no time to dwell on this however, because another Dragonfly swooped down from the sky and started firing one missile after another in his direction.

Vincent could only dodge, just barely staying ahead of the line of fire.

Finding some cover behind the water tower in the center of the square, Vincent checked his ammo and scrambled to the top. He took several potshots at the Dragonfly's underbelly, but the bottom was more heavily armored. Vincent studied the machine carefully, but quickly. He spied an exposed tube for one of the fuel cells, probably a design oversight. Vincent shot at the chink in the helicopter's armor. One side of the vehicle erupted in flames.

The Dragonfly backed off for a moment, ejected the damaged component, then returned in full force with a new volley of missiles.

Vincent jumped back to the ground to avoid the brunt of the explosion. The top of the tower blew up, raining water down on the entire area. Then as the chopper dropped ever lower, he realized that he had been driven into a corner of the square with no alleyways between the buildings. He was cornered! There was no cover. Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. Vincent turned to face the craft, his back to the buildings.

The Dragonfly locked on, and armed a fresh volley. Could this be it? In the corner of his eye, Vincent saw an open door.

The Dragonfly fired a barrage of rockets at him; Vincent leaped for the door. He rolled through the entrance just as the missiles connected, the door slamming behind him.

Then there was silence.

* * *

"Cloud, we've gotta get the hell outta here!" Tifa screamed over the gunfire and the pouring rain.

The enemy was coming from the direction of the Memorial, Cloud, Tifa, a dozen-or-so civilians, and the kids were in the street using a couple trucks as a makeshift cover. Cloud stood in front, deflecting bullets and blasting everything that moved with magic. Tifa was in the back, taking out any who tried to sneak around through the alleyways.

Cloud leaped high into the air, energy enveloping his blade. He slashed towards the enemy and the energy fired off in their direction. It split into several smaller beams and rained on their heads. Cloud landed behind the trucks to talk with Tifa better. The gunfire halted for a moment, Cloud's attack having forced them to fall back a moment. But sure enough, they came creeping back. . .

"What transportation do we have?" Cloud asked urgently.

"Just these trucks, and Fenrir."

"Damn. Okay, Tifa take everyone to Kalm."

"What about you?"

"I'll stay here and buy some time."

"Cloud, no-"

"Who else can do it?"

Cloud looked at Marlene and Denzel, curled up behind one of the trucks with their hands over their ears, "They need you Tifa."

Tifa had no argument for this.

"I'll meet you in Kalm. If I'm not there in a day, then. . ."

Tifa made a sound of protest, but Cloud cut her off.

"If I don't show up in a day, go to Junon and cross the ocean. Get as far away from here as you can."

"If you make me wait again. . . "

". . .Yeah, I know." said Cloud, looking a little sheepish.

Something white hot brushed past his arm and struck the truck, Cloud saw the pink ribbon he had kept in memory of Aerith drift to the ground. He looked up in time to see Tifa drop the Deepground soldier with a palm-heel to the jaw. Another came at her with a combat knife, she caught his wrist and crushed it. He dropped the knife. Tifa caught it, spun on the spot, slashed his throat, and kicked him several yards away.

"Go Cloud!" She called back to him. Cloud marveled for one more moment, then jumped back to the front of the 'barricade'. He held his First Tsurugi in his right hand, the hollow blade (Second Tsurugi) in the other. Holding them aloft he charged up the street.

The civilians had heard their conversation and were already moving. One of the trucks roared to life, and zoomed off, full to bursting with passengers.

"We'll meet you on the road!" the driver called to Tifa. A bullet whizzed by her ear, five enemies had barreled out of the alleyway to their left and were shooting at them. Denzel and Marlene were totally exposed! Tifa sprinted towards them, ignoring the bullets tearing up the air in front of her. She jumped, and crushed the ribs of the closest one with a flying kick. She landed hard on top of him, the life already gone from him. Using him as a launch pad, she pounced on the soldier that had been behind him. She grabbed the man's shoulders and flipped over his head, without ever touching the ground. As her feet met the floor she launched him like a catapult. He sailed through the air until he collided with the side of a building, hitting it with a sickening crunch.

The remaining three soldiers gave Tifa their full attention and took aim at her. The two closest were within reach, the third, standing a ways back between them was not. As they opened fire Tifa dropped to the ground once more and spun around with her leg extended, her foot kicking up water as it dragged the ground. The first man's ankle made a snapping noise when her foot connected with it, and the force of the kick followed through the next enemy, sweeping him clean off his feet. At the same time, Tifa let the knife fly from her grasp. It sailed past the first two and lodged itself firmly in the third soldier's chest. Seizing up, screaming, the soldier went down firing into the air.

The soldier that had only been knocked over regained his feet. He leveled his rifle and managed to shot once at Tifa, the bullet tearing through her hair as she sidestepped it, before she drove a knee into his stomach. The soldier doubled over with blood filling his mask, and Tifa slammed an elbow into the back of his neck, snapping it. He fell to the ground again, limp, and did not move again.

Tifa heard the last one, with the broken ankle, cock his rifle. She spun on her heel, intent on burying a fist in his face, but as she did so the soldier's head jerked to the side and he slumped over just as her ears registered the sound of a handgun firing. Tifa looked over and saw her old friend, Johnny, standing next to the kids and holding a smoking revolver. How had she not noticed him before now? Didn't matter, she was grateful.

Tifa jogged over to him, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm. There was still much to do.

"Johnny, can you take Marlene and Denzel in the truck? Fenrir is too exposed."

"Sure." replied Johnny, looking pleased at the chance to help her further.

"No!" cried Denzel, "We gotta stick together!"

Tifa put her hands on his shoulders, "I'll be right behind you, and Johnny is a friend, you can trust him." Not waiting for further argument, Tifa snatched up Marlene's hand and loaded them each into the truck's cabin. Johnny hurled himself over the hood, bent double to avoid the gunfire, and got in the driver's side. He turned the ignition, "See you on the road." He said and he sped down the street toward the outskirts.

Tifa took one last look at Cloud who, in the minute since they had last talked, had worked his way up the street, sword flashing with every swing. "Don't keep me waiting." she said, then frog-hopped over Fenrir's back wheel and into the seat. She started the engine and blasted after Johnny.

Cloud charged his willpower into the Bolt Materia built into the blade of his First Tsurugi, and all of the nearest enemies were struck by bolts of lightning, the water on the ground carrying the bolts further. A Bolt and a Gravity materia had been inserted into the blade during it's construction so that it magnetically attracted the other blades that made up it's final form. They were irremovable, but still functional when not being used for the other swords and always worked better during storms. . .

Cloud took one last glance towards the highway, not even their taillights were visible through the rain, he had to hope they made it out of the city without him. Cloud heard screams in the distance; he turned his attention back to the enemy, they had begun to advance on him again. Cloud held the flat side of his sword to his forehead and made a silent promise. Then Cloud snapped back into a fighting stance and, with a battle-cry that echoed to the rooftops, he charged into the swarm.

* * *

It was a trap.

Vincent knew it as soon as the door had closed.

The evidence was in the sudden stillness. That Dragonfly should have brought the roof down on his head, the fact that this did not happen told him that there were more enemies laying in wait within the building.

Strong ones too, if they thought this was a bigger danger than the Dragonfly hovering right outside with its missiles locked on the front door. . .

Vincent picked his way carefully through the building. It seemed the same as any other motel/pub he had ever been in. There was a check-in desk, a large pantry, even an old fashioned jukebox. He made his way upstairs, gun constantly held at the ready. The only unlocked door led to a large storage room, probably for the motel's various supplies. But in the room seemed to be more than just sheets and towels, there was crates of ammo and rations. Soldiers had been using this place as a hideout for a long time. . .

Vincent had only seconds to register this before the wall to his left collapsed with a loud crash.

Though the gaping hole, stepped the largest man Vincent had ever seen, he had to be at least seven feet tall, he wore a uniform similar to the other soldier's outfits, with the neon blue stripes running down his torso and legs, but this one was obviously custom made. It had no sleeves and a short white and blue cape hung half way down his back. The man's face was big and square with blue lines of Mako coming down from his mouth and eyes, and along the sides of his face, his hair was a spiky blue mane coming down past his shoulder blades. In addition, he had weird pointed ears that looked like they belonged to some beast. But his eye's were the most intimidating, they were black with yellow iris's and cat-like slits for pupils.

"The Protomateria" said the voice of a child, "Tell us where it is"

For one wild moment he thought the voice had come from the man, but then he saw that a young girl had followed the man out of the hole. She also wore a uniform, she had two metal rods in holsters strapped to the back of her legs. She looked to be around ten years old but spoke in a very monotone voice, uncharacteristic of a child as young as she. Also, her eyes had a glow akin to the glow SOLDIER had been known for, the glow of mako-infusion.

As for 'Protomateria', she seemed to think he should know what she was talking about.

The man, on the other hand, looked annoyed, "Hail Weiss." he said through his teeth, his voice resembling a growl more than anything else. Soldiers poured out of the hole behind him and took aim.

Vincent could have rolled his eyes, he dispatched all of the soldiers with one shot each. With his last shot, he leveled his gun and fired at the monster in front of him. But an invisible shield deflected the bullets two feet from his chest, the spot where the bullets hit flashed white for a moment before disappearing. He had a Barrier Materia on him, though Vincent could see no bracer nor weapon for it to be mounted on. . .

"Challenge accepted." the man with a smirk. He began to crouch into a fighting posture.

But just then, the girl collapsed. Vincent's opponent didn't look at all worried or sympathetic.

Suddenly a deafening noise filled the room, making the whole building tremble on it's foundation. Orange and red light flooded the few windows in the room, the source being an explosion that had interrupted the stillness. The sound of several smaller explosions followed, gradually becoming softer as their source, the helicopter outside, flew off over the rooftops, apparently in a forced retreat.

As the last sound died away again, they heard footsteps from down below as someone called; "This way!" it was Reeve!

The man looked at the girl through the corner of his eye, and seemed to make a decision.

"Luck, is on your side" the man said, Vincent silently agreed with him, "I am Azul, we **will** meet again", with that he picked up the girl; and, holding her in one hand, walked to the wall overlooking the street. With his free hand he punched a wide hole in it, as easily as if it were tissue paper. With a leap, he was gone.

"What happened here?" came Reeve's voice from the door way. He jogged to Vincent, Black hair combed neatly, and wearing his usual navy blue coat.

"Are you all right?" Reeve asked Vincent.

Vincent grunted a yes, "Reeve, nice to see you again. Not a very interesting outfit though", he added.

Reeve laughed, "I though long and hard about what to wear for the festival," he said sarcastically, "But enough of the small talk, who were those soldiers that just left?"

"I don't know, but the large one called himself 'Azul'."

Reeve gasped "Azul the Cerulean?" he asked, Vincent shrugged, "Of the Tsviets? But . . . that would only mean-"

"Commissioner!" a WRO member near the door cut in. Apparently more enemy troops had arrived.

"We'll discuss this later," said Reeve, suddenly business-like, "WRO troops have arrived and commenced rescue operations in the city, we could use your help."

Apparently assuming on Vincent's compliance, Reeve and his men started to leave.

"Reeve, whatever it is you're planning; I want absolutely no part of it." said Vincent flatly. He knew this would happen, Reeve had called him to Kalm to ask for help in tracking down the people mentioned in the news. While Vincent pitied them, he had no wish to involve himself.

Reeve looked back at him shocked, though his men continued on their way.

"But you fought along side us three years ago! We need your help once mo-"

A shot fired.

Reeve's eyes widened in shock, an enemy had crept in and shot Reeve in the back. He began to fall to the ground. Infuriated, Vincent pulled his gun and shot the sniper from the hip, but the damage was done. Reeve was down.

"Reeve!"

* * *

Three o'clock, Wutai standard time.

It was bedlam. The soldiers dropped from sky like a terrible black rain. Screams were lost in the roar of gunfire. Fire consumed ornate structures and ravaged the surrounding forests.

But this was nothing like Kalm though. They were outnumbered, but not helpless.

Wutai had, after all, fought against Shinra in the bloodiest war in recent history. Even with diminished strength, Wutai was still a force to be reckoned with. The people of Wutai were of a different breed compared to the townspeople of Kalm. Everyone was a warrior; it was in their very blood.

Kunai soared through the air, and shuriken whirled through the throats of enemies. Every weak point was exploited, as was every shadow, as was every cast away object that could become a weapon of Wutai's vengeance.

The glow of materia lit up the streets as Yuffie, of the Kisargi clan; stewards of Wutai, dropped down from the rooftops with her own platoon of the Silver Crescents, elite ninja of Wutai. Enemies were decimated in blurs of silver and red.

But it was not enough, the Wutai-nin were vastly outnumbered. The enemy soldiers would be pushed back in one area, only to appear like a swarm of locust somewhere else. Eventually, Godo had to order a retreat. During the war, every week Wutai had practiced a city-wide evacuation drill, just in case. The end of the war had come so suddenly, however, that it had never needed to be used. But now, as that special bell rang for the first time in nearly ten years; every single Wutain reacted instantly. Everywhere, wherever there was fighting; suddenly a smoke bomb was released. By the time the smoke cleared, there was not a single civilian or ninja left in Wutai.

From the top of Da Chao, Yuffie watched as the enemy set up to occupy the city. Rage burned in her, on behalf of her homeland and her people. Despite the Wutain's quick response, they had still been caught unawares. As a result, many had been either captured or killed. As she watched several helicopters fly away carrying containers full of prisoners, she could only ask, "Why?"

Soon she would receive a chilling answer.

* * *

Vincent caught Reeve as he fell, but he was a dead weight. There was nothing to be done, if not at least hear his last words. If there were any at all. . .

Vincent slowly lowered Reeve to the floor and turned him over to look at his face and- and Reeve's head fell off!

Out of the torso fell a scrunched up, furry... something. A familiar 'something'.

As it bounced off the floor, the thing unraveled to reveal the strange little robotic cat that was Cait Sith.

Vincent's hand immediately dropped the 'body' and a hand shot to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. It was a habit that he had developed long ago.

"Whew! That was a close one!" said the mechanical doll in his outlandish accent, nothing like Reeve's, who was undoubtedly controlling Cait Sith from afar, "Good thing I came out 'wearing' Reeve!" The doll turned to Vincent as if just noticing him, "Heh, you're not a bad bloke are ya Vincent; aww ya pretend not ta care, but cha always come thru in the end!"

Vincent sighed in resignation, and released his nose, "Alright, what do you want me to do?" If Vincent didn't agree to help, he had no doubt that Cait Sith would follow him wherever he went. Reeve could take direct control whenever he wanted, but Cait Sith had it's on A.I. separate from Reeve. A very annoying A.I. that would bother him until the end of time if need be; and Reeve's seemingly infinitite supply of these dolls meant that shooting them would only be a waste of bullets and time. . .

"Let's run those lads outta town! I'll leave the 'method' up to you, when ya've tidied things up meet me in front of the East Church." With that he jumped out of Azul's hole.

Vincent sighed again and made a mental note to shoot the robot later, if only for thereputic purposes, before jumping through the hole himself.

Back on the ground, the central square was already bustling with a battalion of WRO troops running in all directions. Some were administering first-aid to civilians, groups were jogging in formation down the streets that branched out from the square into the rest of the city, others were setting up tactical stations in empty buildings. The air was thick with smoke and gunfire. A Sergeant marched up to Vincent.

"Sir!" He saluted, much to Vincent's dismay, "Do you need any assistance?"

Vincent considered belting him in the face and running. Reeve had been trying to rope all of the old crowd into his organization since the beginning. Cid had joined up in a second. So had Barret, so that he could get the resources to pump oil. Yuffie probably joined so that she could brag to her friends in Wutai. Even Tifa had accepted an "honorary membership", but Cloud, Nanaki, and Vincent had flat-out refused; but the troopers close enough to Vincent would pause long enough for a quick salute before continuing to their destination. It seemed Reeve had gone and signed him up anyway, Cloud was going to be pissed. . .

Vincent appraised the Sergeant, who was still standing at ready for him. "Uh. . . At ease." said Vincent, already uncomfortable. The Sergeant seemed to relax by a fraction. " Can you tell me who this enemy is?"

"They call themselves "Deepground", sir." He said, in clipped tones. "They are supposedly a secret army that Shinra was developing during the Wutai war as a Medical and Support faction for SOLDIER. After the war ended, the project was supposed to have been scrapped."

"Then what are they doing here?" asked Vincent, confused.

"Sir, I'm afraid that is all I know at the moment, sir."

Vincent sighed and closed his eyes, "Just give me directions to the East Church."

Twenty minutes later Vincent strolled into the church courtyard. It had been an annoying trip from the Central Square. He had been forced to fight for every step he made towards his destination, and it had not been easy. There were fresh bullet holes in this cloak, and foreign blood was still dripping from his claw. It was a rare occurrence, but Vincent felt rather fatigued. But he had saved several more civilians, and gotten a couple of WRO squads out of some nasty situations. Vincent had his doubts about a "Regenesis" organization having it's own army, but he wasn't going to complain about it now. They were competent soldiers and useful in a pinch. But he was going to have words with Reeve as soon as he had the chance.

Being in a housing district, the churchyard was even bigger than the central square. Empty homes surrounded the yard with the church connected on either side. Basically, a glorified dead end.

"A good place to spring another trap." Vincent thought with irritation.

Sure enough, the Dragonfly from the town square dropped into view. The damage it had taken from it's earlier assault was all that distinguished it.

Gatling gunfire tore up the street on its way to Vincent. He leaped out of the way, only to have to jump to dodge a volley of missiles. Vincent landed by some stairs, he ran up to find himself about level with the helicopter. He took aim and the main rotor and fired. The top of the vehicle burst into flames. By the time the pilot inside got the chopper steady, Vincent had vanished from sight.

Silhouetted against the moon, Vincent stood atop the very peak of the church's chapel. He spun his gun around in his palm and then took a great leap to free fall directly above the chopper. The oblivious pilot failed to realize just how helpless he was.

Vincent shot the main rotor three times, once for each blade. The propeller blades shot off in different directions and lodged themselves in building and sidewalk alike before the rest the ship even started to fall to the ground. These were well designed machines though. Even without the main rotor, the chopper was able to hold itself in the air with stabilizer jets on it's underside. However Vincent landed on top of the vehicle next to the rotor shaft, which was still spinning uselessly. He was then enveloped in a great ball of energy. Upon emerging, he had undergone a monstrous transformation. Though still walking on two legs, Vincent's features had become completely bestial. Claws and fangs reflected the moonlight. Primal energy rippled across black musceled limbs. His face was that of a beast with a long snow-white mane. His eyes glowing with mako, Vincent had become the Galian Beast.

Focusing the energies flowing through him, Vincent charged up a fireball in one his claws and pounded it into the top of the Dragonfly's cockpit. A moment later, the helicopter dropped to the ground; explosions tearing it up from the inside-out.

Leaping off the Dragonfly, the Beast landed about twenty feet in front of the now destroyed Dragonfly. A few seconds later, Vincent had resumed his human form and gazed at the carnage he had just so easily wrought.

Despite the display, several disheveled soldiers still clawed their way out of the rubble and warily advanced on Vincent. Vincent was not in very good shape to oppose them, drained as he was from the transformation. He had counted on the chopper's destruction to be the end of it. As one, they opened fire.

Before he had to do anything however, a WRO Shadowfox screeched to halt in front of him blocking the barrage of bullets. Out of the back jumped a squad of WRO troops along with Reeve, presumably the real one this time, all holding machine guns. Reeve glanced at Vincent and gave him a once over. Satisfied that he was okay, Reeve took a position alongside his men and opened fire. Vincent considered for a moment, then he darted around the other side of the truck in time to shoot the last enemy square in the face.

Fifteen minutes later, much of the fighting had subsided. Reeve stood in the middle of the church, in which the WRO was setting up its command station , pouring over a chart of Kalm's layout and giving orders to his Lieutenants.

"Set up checkpoints along the edge of the city and work your way in, they are not to hurt one more civilian. Is that clear?" barked Reeve.

"Sir!" The soldiers saluted and hurried off. Vincent sat a ways away on a crate, listening in, amused that a former Director of Urban Development could make such a competent field commander.

Reeve turned and started to walk towards Vincent, put he halted and put a hand to his earpiece. A line of frustration creased his forehead. Reeve walked up to where Vincent sat.

"You've done well Vincent, the enemy is starting to withdraw from Kalm."

"Good." Vincent said, sincerely pleased.

Reeve continued, "But we still require your assistance. Reports are that Edge is under attack as well. I guess it was inevitable, but I had hoped they would ignore it in favor of the larger settlement next door."

"What do you mean?"

Reeve's shoulders slumped a little, "I'd anticipated an assault of some kind ever since the disappearances started, so I brought the bulk of the WRO in this region to Kalm. I left a sizable force in Edge. At this moment, they should have already deployed, but we lost contact with them ten minutes ago."

Vincent was troubled by this. Despite his reservations about joining, he could at least see that they were well trained. Even a small force should have been able to hunker down and wait for reinforcements. . .

Reeve went on, "I want to send a company of soldiers in, but with no intel I can't risk it."

Vincent closed his eyes, "What do you want me to do?" He asked once again.

"You are well suited for recon, will you go there ahead of my people and report on the situation?"

Vincent glanced through the open door at the wreckage from the Dragonfly. The moonlight was reflected off the Deepground armor, added to the still glowing mako made it seem almost otherworldly.

Cloud could have taken on this army any day of the week. He was, after all, possibly the strongest of their old group. But then again, he didn't have any backup other than Tifa; not that she was anything to be written off, but one of them would have to protect the kids in some measure. Plus it wasn't unheard of for a SOLDIER of Cloud's caliber to be beaten by sheer numbers. . . It didn't look good any way Vincent cut it.

Vincent looked up at Reeve, his mind made up in a millisecond, and nodded.

"Let's go."


	4. The Battle at Edge

**Chapter Five: The Battle of Edge  
**

* * *

Black military helicopters swooped down upon the infant city of Edge with the roaring sound of spinning propeller blades and weapon discharge.

Men and women in neon blue striped combat suits kicked down door after door. Those who were 'pure' were shackled and forced into the street. The impure were exterminated. Children were executed before the eyes of parents. Parents were gunned down before the eyes of children. It seemed like the ghosts of Midgar had taken on a tangible shape and now spread their agony throughout Edge.

Blood flew from Cloud's swords, as he deftly cut a swathe through his enemies. He flew through windows and doors swinging, saved many just in the nick of time; some too late. He loaded petrified civilians into the back of trucks with one hand, and deflected a barrage of bullets with the other. Dressed in his black attire, enemies saw only the silver sheen of his swords as he leapt from shadow to shadow, unable to get a shot on him. Cloud easily cut down whole battalions of enemies, and all who saw him were reminded of the glory-days of SOLDIER.

All told, he probably saved about ten-dozen people from their homes, on his own. But the overriding method to his plan was simply, 'Make noise.'

As the fighting escalated, people awoke and ran for it. Cars and trucks and motorbikes blasted through the streets. Edge was a big city, and Cloud couldn't be everywhere at once. For every one person he saved, elsewhere three others were either captured or killed. Running himself ragged, trying to get to everyone, would only get himself killed. The best he could do for those not within arms reach was to make as loud a racket as possible. It seemed to be working, as people evacuated buildings yet untouched by the enemy. Soon enough, it seemed to only be Cloud and the masses of soldiers that occupied the city.

Suddenly, the soldiers halted, simply standing out of reach of Cloud's sword. Cloud was so startled that he froze as well. Between his clothing, made heavy by the rain, and the nonstop fighting, Cloud was more than welcome for a moment to catch his breath anyway.

Cloud crouched down, ready to spring back into the thick of it. But then, the ranks parted, and three enormous men in heavily armored versions of the standard soldier's uniform walked into the circle created by the masses. Mounted on each of their shoulders, Cloud could see a rocket launcher and a broadsword worthy of SOLDIER. As one, they drew their swords, shouted, "Hail Weiss," and charged at him.

Cloud ducked under the first one's swing, and spun around the second as he attempted to run him through. The brute's momentum carried him into the crowd, nearly impaling his fellow soldiers. Cloud deflected the third brute's sword and swung at him with his off-hand blade, only for it to bounce off his enemy's armor. Sensing one behind them, Cloud dived away as the first brute tried to slice him in half. The one Cloud had tried to hit had to jump back as well to avoid the swing. It seemed that these oafs were plenty dangerous on their own, but put too close together and they were a hazard to each other. This was going to be easier than he thought.

Cloud ran to the edge of the circle, the nearest soldier raised the butt of his rifle to smash it into Cloud's face, only to be irritably kicked away. Cloud turned to face the brutes. One of them had pursued him to this point. He swung down at Cloud overhead. Cloud easily sidestepped the attack, he hopped up on the back of the sword as it was lodged in the pavement, pinning it. Not wasting a movement, Cloud lopped off his enemy's head, and used the collapsing man's shoulder as a spring board to propel himself high into the air. Bringing his swords together, Cloud somersaulted once before driving it point-down into the ground, a seismic-like burst of energy, Cloud's inner power, blasted out in every direction. All of the lesser soldiers within ten yards were knocked off their feet, but the big one's withstood the force. Cloud landed next to the embedded sword.

The other two brutes charged at Cloud now, attempting to crush him before he could recover his weapon. Cloud ducked, allowing the swords to cross overhead and hit his sword. The sound made was like a massive bell, rattling the bones in their massive arms. Before they could recover, Cloud slid through the legs of one brute, and snatched up the dead one's sword. Cloud ran the nearest one through the back tossed the body over his shoulder. Cloud parried an attack from the last one, forcing the monster back. Cloud brought the stolen sword down towards his head, pulled his on sword out of the street and continued the barrage. Cloud then heard the cocking of riffles behind him. He forced pushed the last brute back, spun around to deflect a volley of bullets. Cloud used his Bolt spell again, stunning the other soldiers. Spinning once again, Cloud threw the blade he had stolen into the gut of the brute with enough force to threw him onto his back with the sword sticking straight up. Cloud ran forward and used it's pommel as another launch pad. Once again in the air, Cloud used a gravity spell to smash everyone on the street to the ground, which also propelled Cloud higher than ever. His feet touched the side of a building, four stories up, and rebounded off, going even higher and landed on the roof of the opposite building.

Before he could catch his breath though, a spot inches from his foot exploded in a shower of shattered tile. Snipers! Cloud took off running across the rooftops. Without knowing where they were, he couldn't stand up to them without getting torn apart. Bullets impacted all around him as he ran, kicking up water and concrete into his face.

Abruptly, he ran out of rooftop. Cloud was falling, he collected himself enough to land on the next nearest building. His knee buckled, he had taken a bullet through the thigh. Cloud got his bearings, he was in Memorial Square. Soldiers coming from all sides. He saw the half rebuilt monument looming ahead of him. He jumped with his good leg, and scrambled behind the scaffolding. His pursuers stopped firing, unable to see him. Cloud took advantage of this to pour a potion on his leg wound, the bullet had passed right through. Tearing his sleeve into strips, Cloud wrapped up the injury as best he could.

Suddenly it struck Cloud that it had gotten very quiet. Cloud used the blade of his sword as a mirror to look around the scaffold, he could see the legions that had pursued him thus far; but they were standing motionless once again. But then, Cloud heard footsteps in the distance. Walking at a very leisurely pace, came a single man. With fearful reverence, his subordinates stepped out of his way as he approached.

Even as Vincent confronted Azul in Kalm, and Yuffie was leading the counter-strike in Wutai; Cloud stepped into the open and found himself staring down at the Lord of Deepground.

He was a slender, muscled man with white hair so spiky it actually put Cloud's hair to shame. The man was dressed in the same uniform as the others, but it may as well been a royal robe for how the others behaved toward him. He held a long katana in each hand.

As one, the regular soldiers saluted, "HAIL WEISS!" Their God had arrived at the battlefield. . .

"At ease." said 'Weiss' carelessly. He addressed Cloud loftily, "Cloud Strife, I am Wiess, The Immaculate."

Stepping up to the edge of the monument, Cloud addressed his adversary; he kept his voice even, but forceful, trying to appear as more of threat than he felt.

"You're their leader then?"

"You are of no use to us, your body reeks of the Jenova corruption." Weiss said dismissively, like he was thinking out loud.

"Don't fuck with me! Why have you attacked us!?"

"There is no need to tell you, because soon you will be dead. Men-"

Before Wiess could utter another word, Cloud activated the 'Contain' materia and a Flare, as hot as if it came from the sun itself lit up the bleak city. Entire squads of enemy soldiers were reduced to charred corpses. The more hardy among them only severely burned. The heat of the flames turned all the water in the area into a scalding steam, even halting the rain for a few seconds. Cloud fell to one knee, drained by the effort.

Unaffected, Weiss strolled through the flames, looking up at Cloud, and reminding him very much of his oldest enemy. Suddenly, Weiss was in midair next to him!

With a swing of his katanas, Weiss sent Cloud flying through the air into a nearby building overlooking the square, breaking through the large window and crashing through furniture. Stunned, Cloud could only gasp for air. Blood oozed from gashes in his shoulders and back.

A man, blind with panic charged from a room holding a hunting rifle, "Don't move!"

Cloud rolled over onto all fours and stared at him, "You idiot! RUN!"

A second later, Weiss's katana pierced the man's throat. Blood splattered the carpet. With a roar, Cloud swung his sword at Weiss. He parried the blades and kicked Cloud through a wall. Sheetrock rained down on his head.

"Harry!" A shrill voice screamed from the hallway. A woman came running out to the dead man's body. She collapsed on top of it, crying.

"Useless, tainted wretches!" cackled Weiss, slashing at the widow. Her head rolled off, and landed with a sick 'splat' next to her husband.

"Damn you!" shouted Cloud, launching himself out of the wall, he leaped at Weiss. Cloud swatted the katana's away tackled him back through the broken window.

They both fell, upside down and exchanging blows the whole way, back down to the Memorial Square. They landed together, and leaped in opposite directions, still facing each other. Cloud drew the serrated blade from his harness. They rushed each other and clashed again. Blades locked, neither giving an inch. Their blades crossed in front of them, Cloud head-butted Weiss through the gap and his swords gave. Cloud pressed him further. He swung at Weiss's side. Wiess blocked, but could not counter before Cloud swung with his other sword. Weiss ducked away, losing a few strands of hair in the process. Cloud hammered at Weiss's defense. Forced onto his back foot, Weiss retreated a couple steps. Then thrust one sword at Cloud's face. Cloud twisted his body, avoiding the blade, then dodging the other, he deflected the first as it sliced towards his neck, and used his main blade to force both up. With a clang, their blades locked together once more.

"You're not like the others," growled Cloud, "You were in SOLDIER!"

"So you would believe," Weiss hissed.

"Shinra is gone."

"I don't care about SHINRA!" roared Weiss.

Weiss forced their blades upward, breaking the blade-lock, a quick swipe knocked Cloud off balance long enough for Wiess to back-flip away, landing ten feet away. He pointed his katanas at Cloud. Suddenly, Cloud felt intense burning pain in his left shoulder. Then the sound of the gunfire reached his ears. He fell to one knee, his upper body wracked with pain. Looking down, he saw blood dripping out of a hole in his shirt. Looking up, he saw smoke rising from the katana blades, which he now recognized as-

"Gunblades!?"

Weiss shot at him again, and again, and again. Cloud managed to deflect a few, but was struck again in his chest and abdomen. Cloud collapsed to one knee, panting.

Weiss dropped his fighting stance and began to laugh again. He walked towards Cloud, scraping the tips of his swords along the pavement. "You are finished Cloud Strife. I am but one man, and you cannot even kill ME. How can you hope to stop an army?"

Sheathing one sword, Weiss dragged Cloud back into a standing position by his hair. "If you really want to know; My goal is simple: POWER."

With that, Weiss punted Cloud so hard in the stomach that he was sent flying high into the air. Spitting up blood, Cloud could only see his own two feet in his field of vision.

Landing heavily on his side, Cloud found himself back on top of the Meteor Monument. Weiss landed on the other side of the platform, knocking the scaffold away with a swing of his sword.

"At this very moment, my forces are attacking cities all over the world; Junon, Kalm, Wutai, Nibelheim, Corel . . . and there is nothing you can do about it."

His anger growing, Cloud forced himself back to his feet and merged the serrated blade with the main one.

"We'll stop you." Cloud said defiantly, "If not me, then the others-"

"Oh I'm sure!" sneered Weiss, "Yes, I'm sure your allies will certainly try to avenge you. Who will try first? That hick with the airship? The muscle-headed oaf with the gun-hand? How about your little ninja sidekick? Or the failed science experiment? Maybe they'll send that idiotic toy cat of Reeve's? Well I'd certainly die of laughter!"

His anger flared, Cloud swung his sword with all the strength he had left. But Weiss easily avoided the attack by leaping over it; Cloud's sword lodged itself in the metal frame of the memorial as Weiss landed onto of the blade. With Cloud's sword pinned, he was at Weiss's mercy. Weiss held the tip of his katana to Cloud's throat.

"This seems familiar," Weiss taunted, "A _mighty_ SOLDIER, alone on the battlefield, and full of bullet holes."

Cloud glared at his enemy. "Bastard."Weiss smirked.

"I'll take your head and deliver it to your girlfriend, then I'll eat her heart!"

Weiss picked up Cloud by his throat and held him up for all to see. Weiss called Deepground to attention. The square was filled once more with soldiers. They all called back with rounds of 'Hail Wiess'.

"Deepground!" shouted Wiess, "Show me your loyalty!"

The men and women of Deepground let out a mighty cheer.

"Ready your weapons, Fir-"

Suddenly an electric shock, a bolt spell, surged through him. He dropped Cloud, more out of surprise than pain. The soldiers did not shoot, as Weiss had yet to give the order. Cloud swung his sword up at Wiess from the ground with such speed that Wiess could only back-flip off the crowded memorial to avoid it.

"Well look who still has some fight left." Weiss sneered, as he landed back on the ground a few yards away from the monument. He raised a hand, and Deepground lowered their weapons. "Care to start the next round?"

Weiss's mocking only fed the furnace of Cloud's anger. Energy was building up inside his body until a shimmer appeared around his body. Cloud rose to his feet once more, raised his sword and spun it over his head, the blade engulfed in power once more. Cloud found yet more power boiling up from unknown places, soon going beyond the limit of his body to contain it. Power overflowed from Cloud's being and took shape in the form of a fiery blue mass of pure energy, illuminating the square. Eyes glowing, Cloud Strife swung the sword in a full circle. A roaring whirlwind followed the blade. The weaker soldiers were sent flying.

Cloud Strife swung his sword, winds swirling about the blade, again, and the intensity of the winds increased five-fold. Only the hardiest of soldiers withstood it. For the finishing touch, Cloud swung his sword in one last arc, guiding the maelstrom towards Weiss. A roaring twister, with the monument at the epicenter blasted all the remaining enemies away, Weiss himself took the full force of the attack. Before he knew it, Weiss was flying high above the city and out of control.

With an impact that echoed for miles, Weiss crashed into the side of a bus a mile across the city from where he had started. The bus was split in half, the street behind it getting torn up by Weiss's landing.

By the time any could return to the square, Cloud was long gone.


	5. The Die is Cast

**Chapter Four: The Die is Cast.**

* * *

A lifetime ago, Agent Valentine stepped out of the elevator leading to the private training facility of the Department of Administrative Research. A hidden speaker came to life, the computerized voice of a woman confirmed his identity.

"**Verifying data - Access number - G-A-I-zero-one-two . . . Good evening - Mr. Valentine. . .**"

_ "Agent_ Valentine," he said, quietly correcting the program.

** "Shinra Manufacturing - Tactical - Training Facility - now loading - Administrative Research Department Simulation Program: Session 1. . ."**

'Administrative Research' was an interesting name for Agent Valentine's profession, he felt, given that it was just a thin veil, or more like an inside joke, for what he did.

** "Please be aware that Shinra Manufacturing is not responsible for any injuries or loss of life during the simulation program." **

This was no joke on the company's part. The opponents thrown at him may have merely been virtual constructs, unable to exist outside of this room, but they were using live ammunition. This was why their official name was a joke, because the only 'research' Agent Valentine did was on the details of a target chosen by his superiors. Then he killed them. Usually. Sometimes he interrogated them, and then killed them. Anything the company wanted him to do, he did without question. It was nothing personal, just following orders.

**Session One. . . **

Agent Valentine was a seasoned member of the organization, despite his young age. More often than not, multiple assignments were given to an Agent at once, which had them in the field for weeks, even months, at a time. But this was nothing more than an annual skill assessment. Naturally, live ammunition was used by the attacking drones. This was a test of quality after all. If he passed, he would be promoted. If he failed. . .

**Session Two. . .**

The most rigorous training, and a wealth of hands-on experience, had honed his body to physical perfection, and tempered every sense and reflex to almost superhuman levels. But this was merely the standard which he was expected to meet.

**Session Three. . .**

The Turks, as they were unofficially nicknamed within the company, were a private intelligence agency that carried out various missions on a global scale. Most agents came from an orphanage run by Shinra; they were pretty much raised to be obedient killers. Some, however, seeking adventure, joined voluntarily. Whether this was Valentine's reason or not, he kept to himself.

**Session Four. . . **

Agent Valentine quickly gained a reputation for being a quiet, efficient, and deadly sharpshooter.

**Session Five. . . **

Every graduating Turk was allowed a specialized weapon of their choice and usually it would relate to their codename. His superiors saw fit to name Agent Valentince, "Silencer" of the Turks.

**Session Six. . .**

"Silencer" served for a few years. He did things he never thought he'd do and saw things that would stay with him forever, but back then, it was just part of his duty. He rose through the ranks very quickly, being given 'S' ranked missions, which he often did solo.

**Session Seven. . . **

The last such mission came during his fourth year, when he was assigned to be the bodyguard of Shinra's best scientists while they worked far away from home in a town called Nibelheim. . .

**This concludes the Administrative Research Department Simulation Program. You may return to your station. **

* * *

Vincent and Reeve sat in the "lounge" of the a Shadowfox on their way to Edge. They were three hours out from Kalm.

Three weeks earlier, while investigating some of Scarlett's old files, Reeve explained to Vincent, he had discovered the existence of Shinra's "dark secret": Deepground. Azul, whom Vincent had met in Kalm, was a member of it's most elite force, known as the Tsviets. Of the six Tsviets, only three names were known: Azul the Cerulean, Rosso the Crimsion, and Nero the Sable. Very few people within Shinra Inc. had been aware of this project's existance. The only ones who knew were the former President, Heidegger, Scarlet, and the head of Biochemical research: Hojo.

"With everything that happened after the President's murder, I doubt Rufus was ever briefed on the project. Supposedly, 'Project Deepground' was shut down after the war ended, but there is evidence that the remaining subjects were experimented on for a long time after that. With all the anti-Shinra feelings in Shinra's final years, it seems that they were trying to enhance the SOLDIER process further than ever, possibly to duplicate the results of the JENOVA project. All I know for sure is that an outside element was introduced at some point just before Meteor, and that is when the Tsviets appeared. Scarlett didn't elaborate any further than that though." said Reeve. "I bet she stopped for some maniacal laughter and forgot to finish her report." he added wryly.

Vincent rolled his eyes, remembering her outbursts well.

"Following this discovery I sent my people to Midgar to investigate this "Sector Zero". But I was sloppy. With the Mako radiation levels lower than ever, I assumed it would be safe enough. I even allowed a news team to accompany them." Reeve paused, he averted his eyes from Vincent, a look of shame appearing on his face. He continued, "We lost contact almost as soon as they went underground. Then we had the disappearances in Junon soon after."

"I saw the report." said Vincent.

Reeve laughed hollowly, "You saw what I wanted you to see."

Realization dawned on Vincent, "You suppressed the information, didn't you?" he said, accusation in his tone.

"With my team's disappearance, I had to prevent a panic, until I could mount a proper investigation. I- I smudged the details for the report." Reeve confessed.

"Why do you think I refused to join your little personal army?" Vincent hissed. "Because I knew that this would happen."

Reeve bowed his head, "I'm not proud of it, and I know what you must think of me, but you have to understan-"

"And you still try to justify yourself?" Vincent growled, cutting him off.

"The real number, of the disappearances, it was-"

"It doesn't mat-"

Reeve spoke over him,"Over twelve-hundred."

This derailed Vincent. The revelation hit him like a head rush. Vincent gripped the bench to keep himself steady. Twelve-hundred! That **would** have caused a panic for sure.

But once the initial shock wore off, Vincent resumed his argument. Although he could now see Reeve's point of view in this, he still opposed it.

"When one man takes it upon himself to decide what the world _wants_ to hear versus what it _needs_ to hear," Vincent said quietly, "In the end, he'll be the one fighting groups like Avalanche."

Silence filled the compartment. Reeve stared at the floor, Vincent's words ringing true.

"Twelve-Hundred people suddenly vanish without a trace." Reeve continued, finally, "The WRO's investigation came up with nothing, we couldn't even find that door again. There was nothing, except for rumors. Ever since the first disappearances, every night, Edge hase experienced the same phenomenon. Tifa described it to me in a call, 'You can't hear it during the day. But when the sun goes down, and the sounds of the city are quiet, it starts. First quiet, then it starts to get louder and louder. By midnight, you can't mistake it. We tell the kids that it's only the wind, but let me ask you; how do you convince a child that the wind could sound like a thousand wailing souls?'"

Suddenly the driver called over the loud speaker, "Commissioner! A rogue transmission is being broadcast on all wavelengths!"

There was a console with some monitors on both walls of the truck, Reeve turned around on his bench to turn one of them on. There in the screen Vincent saw a man, pale as death, wearing only white pants and knee high boots sitting on some kind of throne. From behind him came an intense Mako glow, washing out all color he might have had. Reeve quickly hit a button on the console. A red light blinked on, indicating that it was recording this.

"At last" he began, his voice rising with each word, barely controlled.

"The time has come to _cleanse_ this world. . ."

Reeve and Vincent stared at the screen, lost for words.

"The Pure will be _spared_ for the cause, while the tainted will be hunted down. . . and exterminated."

He laughed cruelly.

"They shall be **slashed**, **strangled** and **slaughtered**; **Beaten, stabbed **and **Crushed, Garroted and impaled, SHOT, and EXECUTED **without mercy."

His mocking laughter filled the cabin, "The time has come to **cleanse** this world!" He repeated, before the video cut off.

"Who. . ?" asked Reeve, looking ill. He began typing furiously into the computer. "I'll try to trace it."

Vincent felt sick to his stomach. It wasn't just how sadistic that man was, but how he _reveled _in it. Vincent dearly hoped that this man was insane, because he could not imagine a human being of sound mind capable of such cruelty. Well, besides one. . .

"Vincent, this transmission troubles me. Do you think you could continue to Edge on foot?" Asked Reeve, cutting into his thoughts.

Vincent looked at him, Reeve was pale and his hands trembled slightly. "Why?"

"I must return to headquarters if I'm to deal with this properly. Whoever that was, he just made a declaration of war and we've got to be ready." Despite his demeanor, Reeve's voice was full of determination.

"Do what you have to."

They were only about a quarter of a mile from Edge anyway. As Vincent stepped out of the truck, Reeve stopped him, he gestured to the other trucks in their escort, "My people will be waiting here. When you have a grasp of the situation, send them a signal and they'll converge on your location.

"Yes, _sir." _Vincent replied icily.

Looking a little sheepish, Reeve closed the hatch and his ShadowFox zoomed off.

Less than half an hour after separating from Reeve, Vincent had made it to Edge.

* * *

_As the transmission cut off, the figure slumped to one side of his throne. His gasps echoed around the chamber as blood ran down the sides of his mouth. He clutched his abdomen, which was covered in a thick layer of gauze._

_A dark figure rushed to his side, "Brother!"_

_Wiess shoved the younger man away, "That worm is more trouble than he's worth." he muttered._

_As more blood began to seep through the bandages, Wiess pulled the other man closer, "Listen to me, very closely. . ."_

* * *

Vincent walked through the deserted streets of Edge. The drizzle that had started in the wasteland had become a downpour, making all the buildings appear gray and cold. Apprehension clawing at him, Vincent continued down the lonely road.

* * *

_"Slashed, strangled, and slaughtered. Beaten, stabbed, and crushed. Garroted, and impaled; shot, and executed without mercy." she recited with the air of having recently heard a good joke, she laughed coldly, "Nicely said Weiss."_

_She looked around the warehouse from where she sat on crate. "Well, that didn't last long." she said gazing at the carnage surrounding her. "The mighty WRO: they wouldn't last a day in Deepground!"_

_She wiped a bit of blood off the unique uniform that identified her as a Tsviet and broke out into a fit of psychotic laughter._

* * *

Vincent stood outside Tifa's Seventh Heaven. The bar, which had been constructed from scratch by Cloud, Tifa, and Barret, stood cold and empty. The door hung ajar, as it often did during work hours. Vincent poked his head into the doorway. Nothing. There were no signs of life, no Cloud to greet him with a look and a nod as he walked in, no Tifa fussing over him and offering him anything to drink from tea to wine, and no Marlene or Denzel bounding down the stairs to tug at his cloak and be generally bothersome. This absence of anything annoying greatly unsettled him.

Vincent crept over the threshold, quiet as a cat.

There were no apparent signs of a struggle.

He jumped the steps to the second floor, and ran to Cloud and Tifa's room. Turning on a light would draw attention, but Vincent's eyes were adjusted enough to the dark to see enough. The beds were not made. The curtain's where drawn. Both their closets had been rummaged through, the contents strewn about the floor. Cloud was another story, but Tifa would never leave a room like that. The room had been searched, thoroughly.

The same was true for the children's room. It looked like someone had snatched them both out of their beds in a hurry. This only increased his fears. Had Deepground taken them?

Trying not to dwell on his fears, Vincent went back to Cloud's office. It seemed untouched, but that was not saying much since the room was so spartan. In the back of the closet he found the switch that triggered the release. Only those in their old group knew about this addition to the house; Pressing it, he opened the small room that stored the groups weapons and armor from the Meteor Crisis. Since Cloud and Tifa were the only one's who had settled down in one place, the job of safe-keeping had been left to them.

From the stash he pulled his old rifle, the Death Penalty, it's harness, and all the ammunition he could find. Quickly and skillfully, Vincent disassembled the gun. Taking some oil and a rag out of his side-pouch Vincent gave the parts a quick cleaning. Vincent reassembled the gun, none of it's moving parts made a noise now. The gun had very high power and accuracy, but it's chamber housed only a single bullet. No good for a direct confrontation, but perfect for stealth. It's familiar weight comforted Vincent a little. It was Lucrecia's final gift to him, and he had hated parting with it. But the peaceful times they had been living in had required him to find a less threatening weapon. It was for this reason that he had constructed the Cerberus, his triple barreled revolver. Vincent pulled a special attachment he had designed and built himself from his pouch and attached it to Death Penalty's magazine. This would load a new bullet into the barrel automatically after each discharge, but it would still take about two seconds before it could be fired. . .

He checked the garage. Fenrir was gone with recent tire tracks leading out into the rain, a good sign. He followed the tracks out into the street but they disappeared after a few feet. All Vincent could tell for sure was that Cloud had been heading either towards, or away from, the highway.

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps behind him. In an instant he spun around and aimed Cerberus at a . . . young woman. There was, to his mild surprise, a gun barrel an inch from his left eye. She was good.

It was a standoff, and neither were willing to blink.

The woman wore a white lab coat and a magenta and black dress underneath. Her light brown hair obscured part of her face, she seemed to be about twenty-five. She was no Deepground soldier, in fact the name tag on her coat identified her as a WRO scientist.

"You're W.R.O?"

"Who's asking?" She returned.

"Vincent Valentine. Reeve sent me" said Vincent, lowering his gun in a gesture of peace.

"My apologies, I should have recognized you sooner. Shalua Rui of the WRO" she said as she put her gun away too. "The Commissioner has told me much about you."

"What happened here?" He asked, staving off the temptation to ask if Reeve had conscripted him regardless of his refusal.

"That's what I'd like to know." Shalua said looking at the dismal buildings, "I'm here on other business, but something's not right; it's too quiet."

She was walking in a slow circle, as if sizing him up.

"I've seen no trace of Deepground, nor the squads sent in to fight them. Also, where are the eight thousand people who are supposed to still be living here?"

Vincent couldn't answer her question. Now he was very worried. Did that mean Cloud, Tifa, and the kids were gone too?

"Well, this is getting us nowhere." Shalua continued, "Like I said, I've got business to attend to, I'll see you around."

"'Business'?"

"The Commissioner keeps telling me I'm wasting my time- my time searching."

"Searching for what?"

"For my. . . reason to live." she said with a far-away look in her eye.

Vincent frowned, no WRO, no Deepground, and no civilians. Edge was completely deserted? No, Vincent could feel in his gut that the danger was still there, even if Edge seemed to be a ghost town. He would have to hunt down his enemy. But there was the possibility that they had taken down Cloud; Vincent wasn't willing to take on that kind of strength alone. Deciding it was time to call in the cavalry, Vincent reached into his pocket for his phone. . . and found nothing. Cursing, Vincent felt around in his other pockets and the pouches on his belt. Ammo, rations, Transform materia, but no phone. With a pang of sudden realization, Vincent remembered putting it on it's charger back at the Inn in Kalm, where it had likely gotten blown up with the rest of his room. . . Fuck.

"Do you have a PHS?" Vincent asked Shalua, looking up as he did so, "I need to make a-" She was gone.

'Damn. She sneaks up on me, now she disappears with out me noticing. I must be slipping.' the "Silencer" muttered.

Despite himself, Vincent vaguely wondered if he had a reason to live either.

Shaking off that depressing notion, Vincent went back inside the bar to try Tifa's phone. No dial tone. He went back to the weapons stash to find a materia well suited for an impromptu flare. Nothing, not even a Fire.

Vincent walked back out into the rain. He remembered that there was a small Materia shop on the other side of town, perhaps he should try breaking in? No, it was too far. Not worth the risk.

Vincent was standing in the spot he had encountered Shalua while he was thinking. He was just wondering where she had gone, when a cold chill started to creep up his spine and it was not from the rain. Vincent was being watched. His danger sense flaring, Vincent stepped back into the shadow of the bar. He scanned the surrounding rooftops, the uneasiness in his gut getting worse by the second, something was up there. Something bad.

Suddenly it occurred to Vincent that Shalua was just a normal human being. Skilled as she may be, she was much more vulnerable than Vincent felt. Where had she gone? She knew who he was, it was reckless go off alone. Vincent looked up and down the street, but an alleyway entrance directly in front him caught his eye. Beyond a few feet, coupled with the rain, it was pitch black down there. It was the only way she could have gone so quickly. Vincent darted across the street and down the alley, into the darkness. If Vincent was remembering correctly, this alley was part of a short cut to the Memorial. . .

He came out onto another side street and stopped short, shocked. Before him were the remains of what could have only been an intense and bloody fight. Discarded weapons littered the ground. Here and there, a scrap of bloody cloth, a body. Bullet holes marked every visible surface. The puddles at his feet were tinged with crimson and floating away in one of them, Vincent spied a little pink ribbon. . .


	6. Silent Edge

**This my attempt at establishing atmosphere. Did I succeed; or am I fooling myself?  
**

**Chapter Six: Silent Edge**

* * *

Vincent, to his great chagrin, was completely lost. He was somewhat familiar with Edge's main thoroughfares, but he never could have imagined what labyrinth the back alleys would be.

There had not been any real building plan when Edge first popped up next to Midgar's ruins. Tents were set up for the recently homeless, which were gradually replaced with homes built from what could be salvaged from the wreck. As a result, half the city's streets were a confused jumble of alleyways and dead ends, interrupted only by the main avenues which led to the newer, more organized section of the city.

It had been a half-hour since Vincent set out to find Shalua, and nothing to show for it. The walls stretched on, seemingly endlessly, above his head, into the black stormy night. The alley seemed just as endless, because Vincent could only see a few yards ahead before the walls faded into the darkness. The longer he walked along this passage, the more it was starting to feel like they were closing in on him.

If Shalua had left any kind of trail, it was long gone, erased by the icy rain. For all Vincent knew, she was already dead.

Suddenly, he heard something. No, sensed it more like. Vincent stopped short, his neck-hairs on end. It was the same sensation from outside the bar. There was a tapping noise coming from up ahead, like soft footsteps. Whatever it was, it was fully masked by the shadows. Vincent, on the other hand, was very exposed with only one possible direction he could run, which no option. If he turned his back on whatever was ahead of him, it would attack. All Vincent could do was hold his ground in the middle of the brick valley.

The footsteps stopped. Vincent stood still as stone, listening. The rain drowned out every noise. He couldn't trust his ears, so he waited for whoever it was to make the first move.

Nothing happened for a long time. Vincent stared into the gloom, looking for anything he could identify as the threat. His hand hovered above his gun-holster.

But then, a growl, and the sound of splashing water, but not from the original source. It was behind him!

Vincent spun on his heel, claw outstretched, and managed to backhand his assailant before it's claws reached his face.

The creature moved too fast to see clearly as it rebounded off the wall and pounced at Vincent again, this time succeeding in knocking him over. Vincent hit the ground, sliding on the wet pavement with the thing on top of him.

Using the momentum of the fall, Vincent kicked the brute off with his heels and rolled back onto his feet in one movement. He turned to face it, but it had already recovered and resumed it's charge. It was too dark to see anything but glowing blue streaks as it approached. It ran straight at him, then it hopped onto the wall. High above his head, it jumped off, claws bearing down on him.

Vincent watched it approach, his enhanced perception allowing him to see it fully now even as it plummetted towards him. It was somekind of feral dog-like animal, wearing what appeared to be a Deepground uniform, the blue streaks were the same tubes of mako that laced the soldier's uniforms too.

In a movement faster than the eye could follow, Vincent drew his tri-barrel revolver and, firing from the hip like a cowboy, put twelve bullets in the creature in four shots. It sailed past Vincent's head, dead before it hit the ground.

Vincent stooped to examine the thing. It was a frightening sight, even in death. It's movements had been inconceivable, to run along the wall as easily as the ground. But even with that speed, how had it gotten behind him so fast? Unless. . .

"Damn." With all the spinning and tumbling that had ensued in the scuffle, Vincent realized that his back was to the original source of the disturbance.

Vincent spun once again, claw outstretched, knowing what he would find.

With a disgusting **ssshhhlk**, Vincent buried his claw in the throat of another creature identical to the first. It swiped at him in it's death thros, leaving deep gashes in his arm and shoulder. Vincent tightened his grip inside it's neck, snapping it, and it went still.

Panting, and in pain, Vincent tried to free his arm of the dead weight. He was stuck, tangled up in tendon and whatever else he had torn through. Then his blood ran cold, one more had crept out of the shadows. It held itself low to the ground like a predatory animal. Vincent raised his gun and fired at it. It hopped to one side. The bullets flew past and struck the wall at an angle, chipping off pieces of brick and mortar. The creature charged at him, daring him to waste his last shot.

Vincent remained motionless as it approached.

It leapt at him, claws fully extended. Vincent threw himself down next to the dead one that immobilized him. Laying sideways, Vincent aimed up at the third creature as it flew over him. Vincent fired his last shot at it's unarmored underbelly. Before it even knew what happened, the creature's guts exploded all over the alleyway, bringing the fight to very inglorious end.

Vincent let out a lungful of air he hadn't realized he had been holding in. He got up, placed a foot on the corpse he was stuck to for leverage, and managed to free his left arm at last. He balled up a handful of his cloak to wipe the blood from his face. Vincent leaned against the wall to catch his breath as he did this, but it caught in his throat when he looked at the creatures. Now that they were still, he could see their heads properly. The helmet was different from the standard deepground headwear. While it too had three eye pieces, the bottom was left open, exposing the elongated jaws of, not somekind of hound as he had originally though, but something . . . human.

Vincent ripped the helmet off one of them, only to immediately regret his decision. He jammed the mask back on the monster's head and stood up to continue on his way as fast as possible.

Vincent strode down the alleyway in the direction the first one had come from. His wounds were already closed, with barely a mark to show, but he broke open a potion anyway to deal with the ache left behind. He turned a corner as he did this, only to meet a scene far more grotesque than the one he had just created.

* * *

It was mere hours since the assault, WRO members stood stationed at every corner. Bodies were still being identified. The fallen Dragonfly was still being scrapped and analyzed. But the fighting wasn't over. A few dozen Deepground soldiers had managed to hole up in the Neon District, one of the newer sections of the city, a little south of the Central square in the middle of town.

Civilians huddled together in houses, fearful of another attack. Every now and then, gunfire would pierce the night and they would cringe and draw closer together. Other houses stood dead silent.

But no one had come or gone to the city since the Commissioner had left. Kalm was on complete lock-down.

Lieutenant Jarek Ironside was standing in the East Church, having taken over for Reeve, marking off checkpoints on the city map. His men had the enemy pinned down where they were, but there was no way to tell if there were hostages or not. He had stopped their advance, but the edge of the district was under close watch. If only his snipers had taller buildings to work with. . .

Just then one of his subordinates burst into the building, he saluted hastily, "Sir, news from the gate!"

Kalm was one of the few cities in the world that still maintained an outside wall encompassing everything. Even when the city grew, the wall had been expanded with it. The people of Kalm said it was a relic of 'days gone by' or something; whatever the reason it was damn useful for their purposes this night.

"Report." said Ironside.

"The lookouts can see headlights coming from the direction of Midgar."

Ironside swore, "Is there anyway to tell who they are?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

"No, sir." replied the Private. "Orders, sir?"

Ironside made a decision, "Raise squads three and five, they were disappointed that they missed the action, well they may just get it now. I'll meet them at the gate. Dismissed."

"Sir!" The Private saluted and dashed off.

Ironside quickly snatched up his shotgun and strode down the street. He hopped into a jeep to be taken to the West Entrance. Five minutes later, he climbed the steps to the top and peered out into the rainy night. Visibility was pretty much nil, but the rain had quenched most of the fires. A fair tradeoff, but Ironside was less than pleased with it at the moment. He took a pair of binoculars from the nearest guard and looked towards the horizon. After a moment of searching he found them: Several sets of headlights, no mistaking them, and they were drawing closer. Ironside estimated that they were still about six miles off from Kalm, so they had maybe ten minutes to prepare. Turning back toward the town, Ironside was pleased to see that Squads three and five were already lined up in front of the gate.

Good. Very good.

Ironside went to the edge of the wall looking in and called down to them.

"Take defensive positions until I say otherwise!" The men and women under his command broke formation and took cover behind anything tall and sturdy enough. Piles of rubble, abandoned cars, the fountain in the center, all were put to use. Snipers lined the walls on either side of him. There was a city-gate, but there was no telling how well that would stand up a truck barreling at it. There were floodlights mounted on either side of the gate, Ironside had them turned on and aimed at a space fifteen meters from the doors.

Then they waited.

Ten nervous minutes later, the shapes of vehicles took form behind the headlights as they came within the final fifty yards of the wall. Ironside tossed a flashbang in front of the lead vehicle. It burst into a flash of light and all of them came to a screeching halt. They had heeded the warning, they either meant no harm, or they were simply smart enough not to attack yet.

Ironside spoke through a megaphone, "Kalm is under lock-down! Step into the light and state your business here!"

The figure of a women dismounted from a motorcycle and stepped into the light, her hands raised. Ironside recognized her before she needed to introduce herself, "My name is Tifa Lockhart of Avalanche."

Without hesitation, Jarek called down to the ground, "Open the gates!" A moment later the heavy double doors swung inward. Lockhart got back on the motorcycle and led the entourage of about a two dozen civilian cars inside. Jarek descended to the street to meet them. But once the doors were closed, Lockhart dismounted again and ran to a blue pickup, which had parked close to her. She opened the passenger door and two children, a boy and a girl, leapt into her arms.

"I thought you were going to get shot." whispered the girl, clutching at Lockhart's jacket.

"Don't be silly, I called ahead. There was nothing to be worried about." Lockhart reassured them.

Ironside heard this exchange, and had to feel respect for her. They had received no such message.

Lockhart gave her children one more squeeze and released them before she walked over to Ironside, who stood at attention. The children followed, just a step behind her.

"Edge is under attack from Midgar, we have wounded with us." she reported.

The Lieutenant nodded and signaled his men, they rushed forward to accommodate the refugees. "WRO reinforcements were dispatched to Edge soon after reports came in. Your ally, Colonel Valentine was with them."

Lockhart looked surprised, but pleased, "How did we miss them?"

"The Commissioner didn't plan on taking the roads when he left," Ironside replied, "They needed to approach Edge without raising any alarm from the enemy and the roads are too open."

"I see. That will be all then, where can we get some rest?"

Ironside summoned the same Private from earlier, "Take the Colonel and her wards to one of the empty houses near HQ." he ordered.

"Yes Sir!" The Private gestured to Lockhart, "This way Ma'am."

Lockhart and her children followed him towards the jeep, but as they left she turned her head towards the gate, a wistful look on her face.

With a loud 'BANG' the gates slammed closed.

* * *

The corpses of about a dozen of the same monstrosities that ambushed him littered the small space. Smoking bullet holes and slash marks decorated the walls, with blood splatters to match. Scattered among the bodies, here and there, a scrap of WRO uniform could be seen, attached to a formless mass of cold flesh. The various limbs and ligaments were so tangled together that they caught the rain in small puddles, the blood tinging the water red. The few intact faces held frozen looks of fear. It was scene straight from hell.

Amidst the falling rain, and dripping of blood, Vincent was able to pick up the sound of ragged breathing coming from the far corner. Vincent carefully picked his way through the hellish marsh to the source of the sound. Pulling away the body of one of the beasts revealed the form of a WRO soldier slumped against the wall. His right leg past his knee had been torn off, and there were bloody slash marks all over the front of his uniform. His left arm was hung limp, a bone sticking through the fabric of his sleeve. His right hand was clutching a bloodied combat knife, apparently wrenched from the brute's throat when Vincent had moved it. A quick look at the monster showed that the soldier had been stabbing it in a frenzy before, and probably long after, it had finally died.

The soldier looked up at him. His face was deathly pale, but his eyes still held life, and recognition. He opened his mouth, but only a hoarse gurgle came out as blood dribbled on to his chin. Vincent crouched down next to him, and offered the open potion to his lips. The man drank gratefully, his bleeding let up somewhat, enough for his pained expression to relax. After a moment, he was able to speak.

"Ambushed . . . by soldier . . . in red . . ." he whispered, straining, "Squad . . . wiped out . . . we tried to . . . tried to escape . . ."

He glanced at the carnage around them," trapped . . ."

"And the rest of your platoon?" Vincent inquired softly.

The trooper shook his head slightly, but enough to make the point clear as tears mixed with the blood on his cheeks.

"What about the citizens?"

"Warehouse . . . on the . . . edge of town . . ." he gasped, a renewed gush of blood flowed from his mouth. He dropped his knife and dug into a pouch on his hip. He pulled out a keycard and held it up for Vincent. Vincent took the card, but the soldier grabbed his wrist, his face etched with pain, "They were . . . gathering . . ."

"What about Cloud Strife, was he captured?" asked Vincent urgently.

The soldier did not speak again. Vincent gently removed the hand from his wrist.

The tag on his uniform revealed his name to be Myron Herrot, Private first-class of the WRO's eighty-first platoon. The tag came off with a yank.

Noticing something silver dangling out of his pouch, Vincent carefully picked it up and held it to where he could take a good look at it. It was a small silver SOLDIER logo on a fine chain. Coiling the chain around the name tag, Vincent stowed it in his pocket. He would give them to Reeve, and he would see that they were given to the right people. It was all the honor he could afford to grant him.

With a sweep of his hand, Vincent closed Myron Herrot's eyes.

* * *

After some careful navigating, Vincent had found his way out of the alleyways and into the newer side of the city. This half had been built after Reeve took charge of urban planning, so the road layout was arranged in a grid-like pattern. Edge's most defining site lay at the center of this district: the Memorial Circle, like the axels of a wheel, all of the main roads in Edge intersected here. The shape of the area, combined with the gray of the surrounding buildings, often gave one the illusion of a massive crater, at the center of which was the memorial itself. It was a pedestal on which the names of those who died on the Promised Day where carved around a plaque that displayed the old catchphrase: 'Keep on Rockin' in Midgar!' At the top was a crome statue of the Meteor .

Vincent found it strange being back here, in no small part because barely a year earlier he had reunited with his former comrades to fight a dark god in this very spot.

Having finally given up on finding Shalua, he had been seeking the warehouse. On his way he had come across the memorial.

Usually Vincent spent much of his time wandering the land in solitude, avoiding large settlements because he disliked the hustle and bustle of the city. That said, it struck him just how very empty the city felt. For how quiet it was, he may have well been in the Sleeping Forest to the far north.

A dead city, that's what it was. All Vincent could hear was the sound of rain on asphalt. The usual city smells replaced by the lingering sulfuric smell of gunpowder and charred meat. Blackened masses littered the lanes, burnt and twisted beyond any kind of recognition. It was impossible to know what they had once been, only that potent magic had been involved with their current condition. In some places, the blobs had been so affected that they were glowing with Mako exposure, the granite gray of the city was interrupted by eerie green light, forcefully reminding Vincent of the Northern Crater.

Gunshots interrupted Vincent's musings. He merged with the shadow of a building, removing himself from sight. But it seemed he wasn't the target. . .

"Survivor spotted! Don't let him get away!" shouted a voice, accompanied by a shrill cry. A child's cry.

Sprinting from his hiding spot, Vincent quickly homed in on the source of the scream.

The road to third avenue had been gated off, and it was here that the boy had been cornered. Two D-Troopers were slowly advancing on him with machine guns at the ready.

"No impurity detected, take him in." one of them barked . . . before a gun shot blew his gray matter all over the road. The child cried again out as he was hit with a shower of blood.

"What the f-?" was all the other one could get out before a claw sliced his gun in half on its way to his throat. The claw wrapped its appendages around the soldiers neck and lifted him off his feet. In desperation, the soldier pulled a knife and stabbed wildly at the red mass that was throttling him. But with a sickening snap the soldiers body became like a rag doll. The claw released him, and the body fell to ground in a crumpled heap.

The boy seemed seemed to be unhurt. By the look of him, he was was about Denzel's age and wearing about what one would expect a kid of his age to be wearing. A pitiful, scared looking thing with a splash of blond hair. Nearby lay a bloody hunting rifle, not belonging to either of the dead soldiers. He stared at his bloody hands, seemingly in shock.

Vincent knelt down in front of the boy. "Hey kid."

The boy's face jerked up to look at him, eyes wide with terror., but the demon had become no more than a man. Recognition appeared in the boy's eyes, as all the members of Avalanche were well known in Edge.

"You alright?" Vincent asked. The kid didn't say anything, all he did was stare at. . . ah.

Vincent pulled the knife out of his side with a no small amount of irritation. The wound healed up as soon as it was out.

The boy finally found his voice, "W-what are you?"

Vincent considered him for a moment, "You know what? I really don't know. All that matters is that they can't hurt you now. Come with me."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Vincent opened the door to the Seventh Heaven. He glanced around; still empty. He ushered the boy inside. He closed and bolted the door. More deadbolts than he remembered. As was natural for a business, the windows had pull down gratings over the windows, perfect for a temporary hideout. Going to the bar, Vincent brought the boy a glass of water. He held it out.

"Drink." he said.

The boy took it uncertainly, "It will help you relax," said Vincent. The boy sipped it a little, then downed the whole thing.

Vincent knelt down in front of the kid and put a hand on his shoulder, "You stay here, it should be safe. I'll come back when I'm done here."

The kid nodded silently.

Getting up, Vincent headed for the door. "Bolt the door behind me." he called over his shoulder.

"Avenge them!" The boy cried suddenly.

Vincent paused, taken aback. He looked at the kid, tears were streaming down his face. Avenge who?

"That guy. . . with the swords. . . he . . . they . . . mom and dad. . . right there . . . but I . . . I couldn't move. I was too scared. . ." he said between sobs.

The boy looked Vincent in the eye, his voice full of desperation, "Please! Please avenge their deaths!"

Vincent didn't say anything. He simply turned and left the bar. He understood now.

Poor kid.

But a moment later, something the kid had said caught up with him and Vincent stopped short.

"'Swords'?"


	7. Painting the Town Red

**Chapter Seven: Painting the Town Red  
**

* * *

Tracking enemies throughout the city, Vincent had finally found the warehouse. He was crouched on the roof of the building next door, about level with the top of the warehouse. There was nothing visibly amiss. None of those storage units, no sentries, all that was missing was the tumbleweed.

Focusing every sense, Vincent heard through the sound of rainfall the sounds of footsteps in puddles, the slow exhale of breath through a filter. Zeroing in on the source, Vincent spied two snipers on a roof on the other side of the warehouse from his position. Not a very strong garrison, which led Vincent to think that this was another trap. But still, he couldn't afford to not check. Putting the Cerberus away, Vincent removed the Death Penalty from it's harness. Vincent removed a view scope from his side pouch, and attached it to the gun.

The first guard fell without a fuss, it was the bullet hitting the wall behind him that got the other one's attention. He raised a hand to his ear to activate his comlink, just in time for another bullet to sever his finger on it's way through his cerebellum.

With a carefully calculated leap, Vincent jumped down to the ground. He rushed to a service door next to the cargo bay doors of the warehouse. He took out the keycard he had been given and slid it through the scanner. The green light blinked on and he went inside.

Nothing. There was no one inside. Vincent walked deeper into the warehouse. No citizens and no WRO. But there was Deepground. A huge man dropped down from the upper level. He was so big, at first Vincent thought it was Azul the Cerulean again. Brutish though he was, it was not. This one wore a more heavily armored version of the standard uniform. On his back was a rocket launcher and a sword so big he could have stolen it from Cloud. He walked into the wide open circular space in the middle of the warehouse that seemed to have been cleared for just for them, and Vincent now noticed the streaks of red all across the area. Lights suddenly turned on, illuminating everything within the clear space, which Vincent had unwittingly walked right into.

"Hail Weiss!" the Brute roared. A cry went up from the catwalks that lined the perimeter of the building. above them. They were lined with snipers, all zeroing in on him.

The Brute leveled his rocket launcher and fired. Vincent dodged. The Brute fired again. Vincent dodged again. The Brute fired again. Vincent shot the rocket out of the air. The blast knocked the Brute off his feet. Vincent rolled into the cloud of smoke and dust from the detonated shells. In the cloud, by staying low Vincent could see the the beams of red light from the snipers' laser scopes crisscrossing above his head. They were arrows pointing straight at is enemies, Vincent couldn't have planned it better. Taking aim, Vincent fired several rounds. Yells accompanied most of the shots, followed by the sound of bodies falling from their perches.

But suddenly, the Brute came charging through the dust and rammed Vincent with his shoulder. Vincent was thrown into one of the building's steel beams with enough force to leave a dent. Looking up, Vincent saw that the had Brute discarded the rocket launcher and unsheathed his sword. He charged straight at Vincent again, the smoke starting to dissipate. Vincent took a potshot at him, with little effect. The brute didn't slow. Vincent dodged the first swing, and rolled under the second. But with surprising agility, the brute swung the sword back around mid-swing and caught Vincent with the blunt side just as he stood up from the roll. Vincent was sent flying across the room again. He crashed through some crates. Vincent tried to rise, but a bullet dug into the shoulder of his gun arm, knocking him down again. He scrambled behind the splintered wood, to put something between him and the gunmen.

The brute charged across the room, sword held high to finish off his target. He could see Vincent's shadowy form behind the crate. The Brute crushed the crate to slivers with a swing. Kicking the remains aside, he swung down towards Vincent's head. A claw caught the sword. The brute let go of the sword in shock and jumped back several feet.

The Galian Beast stepped out of the shadows, held up the sword and snapped it in half with a roar.

The Brute un-holstered two sub-machine guns and aimed them at the Beast.

Before a shot could be fired, the Beast pounced on the Brute, slammed a claw full of fire into the Brute's chest and sent him flying across the warehouse floor and into the concrete wall. The Brute slid down to the ground, leaving huge cracks, and a big bloody stain, in the wall.

Without wasting a moment, the Beast jumped high into the air. Fireballs flew from it's claws, homing in on the remaining snipers wherever they were. The blasts hit each one, immolating them instantly.

The Galian Beast landed on all fours and was consumed in a dark aura. Vincent emerged in a moment, his injuries healed, but exhausted.

Vincent cursed himself for allowing himself to be pushed so far. Transformations took their toll quickly. Gathering himself, Vincent headed for the exit. If there had been anything worth saving in this warehouse, there wasn't anymore.

* * *

North Corel had just about settled down for the night. Maybe a dozen people were still up and about for whatever reason. Barret had, in fact, been up at the inn, 'having a drink' with Jack, an old friend from the days of Old Corel. They were reminiscing, chatting about their current lives, just shooting the breeze. Barret had been working hard at his oil-fields and had decided to reward himself with a long vacation. First, a day in North Corel, then to Edge for the remainder of the month. How long had it been since Barret had seen Marlene? It had to have been a couple weeks, but it felt like months and he could not wait to get back there to see his darling daughter. . .

Then they came; Like locusts on a tree, they descended from the blackness.

Within the walls of the inn, Barret did not notice anything amiss, his senses somewhat dulled by one pint too many, until he heard the sound of the first gun firing.

Barret had lurched off of his stool and dashed to the door, Jack hot on his heels. Outside, they beheld a sight straight from the nightmares of their past: A town on fire.

Immediately Barret felt as though he was transported seven years into the past, watching his beloved home burn at the hands of the treacherous Scarlett of Shinra.

"FREEZE!" shouted voice from their right.

Barret turned his head to see three soldiers pointing machine guns at himself and Jack. A house was on fire behind them, hiding much of their appearances. There were a few differences, but Barret couldn't see them. All he could see were the silhouettes of three Shinra Soldiers. . .

"Hands up!" the shape ordered, it's voice muffled.

Barret did not hear the command, he only stared at them. His heartbeat quickened, his blood raged. His breaths came out heavier and heavier and his face twisted into a snarl.

Normally, Barret kept his false hand wrapped in a loose cloth binding, to hide it's true nature from casual passerby. The hand twitched within it's covering, then suddenly it expanded. The wrapping tore away to reveal an unbelievable wonder of technology unfolding from Barret's forearm. As the last bit of cloth fell off, the transformation finished. Veins bulged in his shoulder as Barret raised the weapon faster than it should have been possible for such a large hunk of metal.

Barret's vision clouded over, seeing nothing but red. The infantrymen were too late to react.

"SHIIIIINRAAAAAAAAaaaaaa!" roared Barret, unleashing a volley of gunfire. The soldiers fell to the ground perforated, but Barret did not stop. He unloaded his rage on the corpses until they were no more than steaming chunks of meat.

Three miniature gatling guns whirred to a stop. Barret glared at the remains of his enemies, huffing like an enraged bull. Soon enough, the haze subsided. He felt a sharp pain in the shoulder of his good arm. One of them had gotten a shot off and nicked him. Blood started to ooze onto Barret's white vest.

Distantly, Barret could hear his name being called. He forced himself back to the present to find that a group of four North Corelites had emerged from the shadows, all armed to the teeth.

"Barret!" the leader called. It was Sean, another former miner and the man who had been the first to blame Barret for the original Corel's destruction; but that was behind them.

"Sean!" called Barret, running to him, "What the hell is goin' on!"

"I don't know! I was jus' puttin' the boy to bed an' the neighber's house jus' blew up outta nowhere!"

"Is it Shinra?"

"Don' think so. Uniform's dif'rent."

"How many are there?"

"Couldn't say, we've chased off a-" Sean was cut off by the sound of screaming in the distance, accompanied by more gunfire.

Barret and Sean exchanged looks, and bolted off in the direction of the battle.

North Corel's population had swelled in the recent years, those who were new to the area were running around in a panic. But some were not so easily scared. These were the one's who had struggled for years to rebuild what was once taken from them. They still remembered that crucible, and shared Barret's wrath. They were no soldiers, but still strong and stubborn and more than eager for a chance to settle the score.

The ranks of soldiers filled the streets, easy pickings for someone who worked with dynamite for a living. Explosions tore dozens of them to shreds.

Still, the flow of enemies seemed to be unceasing. Barret ordered his friends to make a run for the mine.

The panicking villagers crowded into the entrance, covered by those who could fight. Barret jumped onto a small outcropping above the path and let fly another storm of bullets at the encroaching enemy. In the distance, helicopters towing massive supply crates took off towards the east.

Only about half the village seemed to have made it in, but Barret couldn't wait a moment longer. Turning at the entrance, Barret held up his gun-arm. An attachment extended from the center of his weaon. It crackled with energy for a moment, then Barret aimed for the ceiling and unleashed a blast of green energy. With a sound like thunder, the roof caved in.

The last thing Barret saw of the village, before the rocks blocked off the view completely was the sight of a helicopter flying away while towing a very large shipping crate.

Then they were sealed in.

Utter darkness. They were in utter darkness. The air was thick with dust. There was no sound but that of their own heavy breathing.

Then a small light lit up the small space. A flashlight mounted on Barret's gun-arm, once more in the shape of a hand, was the source. The sudden glow hurt their eyes, but it was a welcome thing.

In a corner of the (former) entrance was a small storage shed. For the most part it had avoided burial in the cave-in and now, as Barret held his light steady on it, the men came forward to dig it out. Inside was a cash of supplies necessary for venturing into the old coal mine. Ropes, hooks, hammers, lanterns, oil, they were the bare essentials.

No one said a word, they all knew what now lay in store. They had no food, nor water, not even a map. When a sufficient number of lamps were lit, enough to illuminate the path ahead by a good twenty feet, they began walking.

Not one word.

* * *

Denzel woke up to the sound of a thunderous crash. He jerked up into a sitting position, holding his hands tightly over his ears. The noise was absolutely deafening, and it only seemed to get louder. When the sound finally died away, he remembered that he wasn't in Sector Five. . .

He got up and slipped his sneakers on, but he didn't recognize his room. Denzel shook his head to get his bearings; he was in Kalm, Tifa had taken him and Marlene there, and now they were on the second story of, ironically enough, an empty bar. Tifa had found the spare room and told them to try to sleep, but not before strictly instructing them **not** to go into the last room on the left . . .

Denzel had no idea what that was about, all he knew was that he had seen Tifa walk out of there looking a little sick to her stomach.

Denzel heard Marlene stir slightly, how had she slept through that racket? Then it struck Denzel that Marlene, having lived most of her live in the Sector Seven slums, was probably used to far worse bumps in the night than just loud noises. . .

Wandering downstairs, he found Tifa sitting behind the bar, bottle of whiskey in front her, alternating between irritably rubbing her temples and drumming on the counter top impatiently.

"Tifa?" he asked tentatively, he recognized her mood from the times his own mother had been upset about something. Generally about something his father had done. . .

Tifa jumped in surprise, suddenly the bottle of whiskey and her glass were nowhere to be seen, and any sign of her previously obvious anxiety was gone from her face and manner (although there was no hiding the shadows under her eyes). She walked over to him, leaning over as she usually did to better talk to him, "Did that last one wake you up?"

Denzel nodded, "What _was_ that?"

"One of Reeve's guys came by a moment ago to tell me about that," She said evenly, "One of the nearby buildings had. . . a problem, and they needed to knock it down."

"What kind of problem?"

Tifa sucked in some air through her teeth, "Pest control. . . in a matter of speaking." she said, hardly missing a beat.

Denzel knew he wasn't being told everything, but he let it drop as he could tell that Tifa _really_ didn't want to talk about this, "'Reeve. . .', he's the guy with the talking cat, or something, isn't he?"

A small sigh of relief escaped Tifa, "Yeah, Cait Sith."

"Why a robot cat?" asked Denzel, walking over to sit at the bar.

"You know, that's a really good question." said Tifa, running with it as she sat down next to him, "I thought it was pretty strange until Reeve showed us Cait's transformations."

"It can transform?"

"Oh yeah! After he came clean about his identity, he displayed Cait's more, erm. . . stealth orientated abilities."

Denzel thought about this for a moment, "Sounds like classified info." he mused.

Tifa scratched her head a little nervously, "Guess I got a little carried away. . ." she chuckled.

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone." said Denzel. "So why are you up?"

"Well someone has to let Cloud in, y'know?"

Denzel looked at the counter, "So, back to waiting for Cloud huh?" he thought out loud, then mentally kicked himself. He glanced sidelong at Tifa. Something in her eyes seemed to have become slightly jaded, and he realized that she had probably thought this to herself many, many times in the past.

"Yeah. . ." she said.

"um... sorry." he asked hesitantly.

She snapped back to reality, the moment gone and forgotten,"Well, you know Cloud. He likes to make his entrances as dramatic as possible."

"By being late?" An interesting way to spin it.

Tifa laughed, "Well, you know what they say. The hero always arrives last, with as big an entrance as he can manage."

Denzel didn't know what they said. "Isn't that a little. . . melodramatic? We should try to change his habits."

Tifa giggled a bit, "Sometimes I wonder how he manages to keep the Delivery Service running; he can't be late for **all** his clients, can he?"

"Tifa, what's going on?" Denzel asked abruptly.

She turned the lightest shade of pink, "Nothing." she said, almost resolutely.

"You wake up me and Marlene in the middle of the night, get chased by a bunch a creepy lookin' guys, drag us out to Kalm-"

Tifa interrupted him,"Okay, point taken."

"Well, what's happening? Why are we here? What happened to Cloud?"

"Well, Denzel. . ." began Tifa, She stopped, thinking hard.

"I don't understand what's happening!" Denzel said, his voice beginning to rise with each word.

Tifa put a hand on his shoulder to calm him, "Honestly, Neither do I."

"But I-"

"Seriously, I don't know! I was just trying to figure it out when you came down. All I know is that it started when Cloud burst into the bar telling us to run for it."

"Why did he stay in Edge if it was so dangerous?"

"Well, you know what else they say?"

"What?"

"The hero always leaves the fight last."

"But won't he get hurt?"

"Of course," Tifa said, but with a growing smile she added, "But if I know anything about Cloud: If he says you'll see him again, you will; sooner or later.

"Like last year?" asked Denzel, hopefully.

"Yeah," said Tifa, a far away look in her eyes again, then she looked back at him, "Try to get some sleep Denzel, I'll let you know as soon as he gets here."

* * *

Having left the warehouse, Vincent found the road back into the city blocked by a woman in a red cape, stopping him in his tracks.

He hesitated, something about her, something about her presence, unnerved him. She was dangerous, without question.

The woman seemed not to have noticed him yet, her back was too him and she was gazing up into the sky. Vincent was just about to start to slowly back away when she spoke:

"You know, this is the first time I've felt the rain on my skin." She said with a somewhat robotic accent.

He froze, a hand hovering over Cerberus. "But then again, I hadn't seen the sky until a few days ago." She turned around, her red eyes glinted with mako energy; "So **you** are Vincent Valentine, Keeper of the Protomateria."

There was that phrase again: 'Protomateria.' That girl in Kalm had said that word to him as well. What was this thing that they wanted from him? He wanted to figure this out, but there were more pressing matters to attend to; as the woman threw back her cloak to reveal a unique, but unmistakable, Deepground uniform.

"Give it to me now and I'll kill you **quickly**." she ordered.

Vincent drew the Cerberus, and held it at the ready.

"Not one to bargain are we?" She chuckled, her smirk becoming even more predatory, "Then I will ensure that you suffer." As the last word was spoken she vanished.

"Time to die." came her voice, dripping with bloodlust, from behind him!

Vincent ducked just in time to avoid one end of her strange double bladed weapon. He spun around to attack with his claw, but she vanished again. Aiming blindly over his shoulder, he fired, and heard her deflect it. She backed off for a moment, long enough for Vincent to turn once again to aim for a disabling shot. Instead he found himself dodging a shotgun blast from the handle of her weapon. He evaded another round of fire. The woman laughed savagely. He couldn't keep up with her! Vincent took a running jump and practically flew over a tall stack of crates to the front of the warehouse, hoping to put something between them and give him a moment to strategize.

But she was hot on his heels. With one punch Vincent was sent through the loading bay of the warehouse. The top of the door was ripped off of the building and they were enveloped in a cloud of dust from collapsing concrete and sheet-rock. The woman aimed her weapon at the cloud, waiting for Vincent to emerge.

But the dust was suddenly blown back and Vincent came into view as his energy started to build again. The woman in red raised her weapon, aiming the gun end for a kill shot.

Vincent was down on one knee; he looked up at her, but his eyes had changed from their normal crimson to a venomous glowing yellow. The woman paused, the piercing eyes held her so transfixed that she barely registered that the rest of Vincent's body had also changed. He got up. Dark energies crackled around him, and a red aura lit the area with an ethereal glow.

Suddenly the aura was drawn inwards, illuminating the change that had taken hold of Vincent. It wasn't the Galian Beast though, a new entity now stood where Vincent had been. Blackened skin, clothed in what seemed to be frozen scarlet flame. A white light shined brightly from his chest. Wings unfurled, as it's mouth opened and let out a deafening roar. A mere portion of the power at it's command was unleashed in the form of a red shock wave of energy that lit up the surrounding buildings with it's radiance.

The woman was blasted away, she hit the wall of the nearest building and kept going, leaving such a hole that half the structure collapsed in on itself.

Shortly, Vincent was himself again. As he stood there, he hardly glanced at the collateral damage. He could not even think. His entire body burned with weariness, and that was not even to mention his other wounds. He could tell that he had several cracked, if not broken ribs, and several other fractures. Usually he regenerated from small wounds like this easily, but his healing factor failed when he abused his transformations too much because of the heavy strain the change inflicted on him. Vincent hobbled forward a couple of feet towards his discarded gun. He was suddenly aware that he was soaking wet, and very cold. He felt so heavy. . .

Vincent fell to the ground with a wet splat. He managed to roll over on to his back in one last effort not to pass out, but it was futile. His head lolled back, making the world appear upside down. As darkness encroached on his vision, he thought he saw a woman in white walking towards him. . .

"Lucrecia..." Vincent croaked deliriously, voice barely above a whisper; "No. . . "

The woman seemed to say something, but Vincent did not hear her.

As she got closer he could just barely make out the long brown hair, the lab coat; and a little bit of magenta. . .

Then Vincent saw and thought no more.


End file.
